Vol. 2

H.T. [1] 
Vol. II.

An Elegy [2] 

How sweet the placid light which Evening sheds!
How Melancholy loves the soft'ning ray!
The gloomy shade the child of sorrow treads,
And the swoll'n eye invokes departing day.
Dear to the pensive heart the silent scene5
As o'er the mellow'd plains I cast my view,
Where the Nore winds his wooded banks between [3] 
And the grey ruin wears the reddning hue.
There aged Cleuen moulders into dust
To time a victim, tho' a victim slow,10
Where once the hardy chief repos'd his trust,
And frown'd defiance on his threat'ning foe.
Tho no proud architect the pile adorn'd
Or taught the graceful column to ascend,
Its haughty strength opposing battle scorn'd,15
Firm to resist, and well the prey defend.
When Britain drove her outcasts on this shore,
They rear'd those castles on the blood-stain'd field,
The pillage from the helpless natives tore,
And forc'd the trembling combatants to yield.20
Hither they came a fierce and lawless band,
And met a foe tho feebler, not more rude;
Oppression lorded o'er the groaning land,
And Discord revell'd in continual blood.
Yet was young Aldred of superior race,25
By science foster'd and the Muses lov'd;
Skill'd the rare characters of art to trace;
His genius nurtured, and his soul improv'd.
Let pity hear his melancholy doom,
Which drove him far from Albion's cherish'd shore,30
Yielded his youth to unremitting gloom,
And gave him hopeless exile to deplore.
The child of sorrow, orphan'd & forlorn,
From noble Osburn he protection sought;
His early merit Osburn lov'd to adorn,35
Nor quench'd the fires with which his soul was fraught.
Taught with his son the graceful Aldred grew,
The lov'd companion of his youthful hours,
Improving days on blissful pinions flew,
Strengthen'd their forms & gave their minds new powers.40
Together still in ev'ry search sublime,
Their studies mutual, their pursuits the same,
To rouse the chace, the rugged steep to climb,
Or wing the rapid dart with certain aim.
Tho' Aldred shone superior in each art,45
And still surpass'd in every manly grace,
No envy poison'd his friend's noble heart
The quicker genius gain'd his ready praise.
When stripling beauty wore first manhood's bloom,
For Osburn's son were Hymen's [4]  robes prepar'd,50
His long betrothed bride at length brought home,
And princely feasts the happy hour declar'd.
But who shall paint that fair, that angel face,
That form the image of celestial joy,
Each softer beauty, each attractive grace55
Glow'd in her cheek, & sparkled in her eye.
Unhappy Aldred! wherefore dost thou gaze,
Why doth thy heart such strange enchantment feel?
Ah! shun the meteor's bright destructive blaze,
Nor let the serpent to thy bosom steal.60
Ah caution vain! the soft seducer Love
Thro' all his veins the treach'rous venom pours,
With gentle whispers Virtue would reprove
The passion which his struggling soul deplores.
Oft struck by self-reproach, by reason woo'd65
He sought his former studies to resume,
Where'er he fled, her image still pursued
Spoke in each sound, & pierc'd thro' every gloom.
Stung by the random shaft e'en thus the deer
Shoots thro' the plains, or seeks in shades to hide,70
In his vain flight still doom'd the dart to bear,
While still it rankles in his wounded side.
Thou too sweet Ida, poor unconscious fair,
Will no protecting power from ruin save?
What anguish wastes thee, & what black despair75
Prepares thine early, thine untimely grave!
Ere yet the latent guilt her soul perceiv'd,
Fierce thro her bosom flew the subtle flame,
Each tortur'd nerve the fatal fire receiv'd,
Consum'd her soul & rag'd thro all her frame.80
Her fading cheek her secret griefs confess'd,
From her dim eye the heav'nly radiance fled,
Her lovely form by silent woes oppress'd,
And the young roses wither'd all and dead.
This Aldred saw with trembling doubt and fear,85
Saw too with conscious pang his friend was lost,
O'er his dark brow saw discontent appear,
And lowering there beheld reserve's cold frost.
Unable to endure the cruel sight,
Resolv'd to go, yet dreading to depart,90
His long lov'd friend resisted not his flight,
Which yet was destin'd to no certain part.
Unhappy Youth! ah wherefore didst thou stay,
Doom'd the extreme of misery to know,
Thy tortur'd heart shall bleed for this delay95
And thine eye see the fates resistless blow.
The tender object of thy guilty sighs
Conflicting passions to the grave have driv'n,
The fated victim sinks before thine eyes,
And 'scapes that anguish which thy flight had giv'n.100
In vain the healing powers of art are tried,
No skill of medicine can her wound assuage,
The wasting fires all human art deride,
And the fair mourner touches life's last stage.
Beside her dying couch, in stupid woe,105
Her wretched husband, and her lover stood,
From their fix'd eyes no softer sorrows flow,
Tho' sad attendants pour the pitying flood.
Yes Aldred saw for ever clos'd that eye
Whose heav'nly speaking emanations charm'd,110
Heard on her lips faint quiv'ring the last sigh,
And felt her hand by life no longer warm'd.
Then madly rushing to the forests gloom,
That house of mourning he for ever left,
Curs'd his existence, & invok'd the tomb,115
Of every sense but anguish quite bereft.
There in dark shades his furious grief to hide,
He shunn'd each eye 'mid rocks & woods conceal'd,
'Till nature sunk bid passions rage subside,
And his exhausted soul to sorrow yield.120
With aching tenderness he view'd around
The long laid scenes he shall for ever mourn,
While Melancholy spoke in every sound
"No peace shall ever to thy breast return."
That spot endear'd by many a tender tie125
He now resolv'd for ever to forego,
Yet the vast world to his despondent eye
No prospect offerd which might sooth his woe.
Urg'd by despair, thus wretched and forlorn,
He join'd the daring and adventurous crew,130
With them from Albion's friendly coast was born,
And plough'd the waves Hibernia to subdue.
There in the rudest solitude immur'd,
Leagu'd with those wretches whom foul crimes had stain'd,
Harden'd by ills, to sufferings long inur'd,135
A tender, manly soul he yet retain'd.
The voice of the oppress'd oft reach'd his ear,
The helpless oft from pillage he preserv'd,
His aw'd companions, tho' unus'd to fear,
Admiring felt their savage grasp unnerv'd.140
But when opposing chiefs in battle fought
Rous'd from his gloom he rush'd into the field,
The hottest combat desperately sought,
Which still refus'd the wish'd for doom to yield.
In vain implor'd still death appear'd to fly,145
Despis'd applause from hence he only gaind,
The chiefs more cautious view'd with wondring eye
The mighty terrors of his fearless hand.
Oft when black storms contending rag'd abroad
And night assembled the far scatter'd band,150
On the dark battlements the youth unaw'd
Was wont the tempests fury to withstand.
The mountain torrents roaring mid these woods
Spoke more accordant than the gentler stream,
And the swell'd Nore's now loudly dashing floods155
To his wild sorrows sympathetic seem.
While the full bowl his rude companions fir'd,
Loathing the tumults of the boistrous scene,
Far from the roar of festive mirth retir'd,
He ask'd no calmer sky to smile serene.160
There would he utter oft his hopeless grief
But sigh'd to no kind sympathising ear
No pitying eye his anguish gave relief
No soothing friends soft influence to cheer.
He thought of Albion's lov'd regretted shore,165
Dear objects ne'er to be review'd again,
And to the heedless winds that round him roar
Forlorn deserted thus would he complain.
"Oh! sad associate of a savage horde,
Thou wretched victim of devouring grief!170
Why is thy death delay'd so oft implor'd,
Why is despair denied its last relief?
Cut off from every hope by one sad stroke
No interest ties thee to this dreary world,
The chain of sweet society it broke175
And I accurs'd to savage wilds am hurl'd.
Is this then all the fruit of early joys
The dreams of hope, and rosy pleasure's charm?
Return ye hours ere love allur'd my eyes
And fill'd my soul with anguish and alarm.180
Once more the sweets of friendship let me know
And rise with innocence to hail the morn,
Feel with my friend blithe vigour's healthful glow
And cheerly echo to the sportive horn.
Come dearest Youth restore the social scene185
The liberal charm of unsuspected truth,
The careless heart, the open brow serene,
The warmth of confidence, the smile of youth.
Dear lovely partners of my happiest hours,
With you each pleasure & each joy is fled,190
O'er my sad bosom every sorrow lowers
And every hope of future bliss is dead.
How could I quit that soft delightful scene
Which once with Ida I had wander'd o'er,
Those sacred woods, those meadows ever green195
That silver river, and that peaceful shore!
Those gardens painted by sweet Nature's skill
Those meads adorned with her richest powers,
The wood-crowned summit of that gentle hill,
The mingled fragrance of those rosy bowers.200
At least delighted memory bring near,
Unto my cheated heart with strongest power,
Each look of love, each word, each action dear,
Each fond memorial, and each happy hour.
Still let me fancy that each peaceful night205
I lay me down in sweetest hope to view,
Her form returning with the morning light
And hear those accents soft, persuasive, true.
Still let me think mine opening eyes shall see
Upon the dewy lawn glad mornings beams,210
Marking the shadow of each well-known tree
Gracing with lustre the sweet rivers streams.
Still let me think that I with her shall rove
O'er the soft verdure of the sloping mead,
Or rest delighted in the upland grove215
And all the treasures of her bosom read.
Let thrilling rapture all my soul entrance
By one soft touch of Ida's yielding hand,
As when, united in the festive dance,
We once were mingled with the happy band.220
Once more let Ida tune the melting lute,
Let solemn strains inspire my ravish'd breast,
Thro' all my kindling nerves let rapture shoot
Or softer accents lull to tender rest.
Oh no! let me be banish'd & undone,225
Let no sweet hope my wretched days beguile,
O'er my sad life let darkning sorrow frown
And sportive nature wear from me no smile.
But Oh! at least the spotless Ida spare,
Let her be blest, while I condemn'd may rove,230
With her the light of Heav'n but let me share,
And view the sun which shines on all I love.
Ah no! in the cold senseless grave she lies,
Wild are my wishes, and my prayers are vain,
Silent her tongue, and clos'd her beaming eyes,235
And I survive, to suffer and complain.
Oft in the woods methinks her voice I hear,
It speaks of happiness for ever gone,
Of blasted hope, of moments still how dear!
Of friendship wither'd, and of pleasure flown.240
Hark even now - the soft melodious charm
Steals thro' the hush'd & dusky vault of night.
With power ev'n my mute anguish to disarm
And sooth despair itself with strange delight.
Seraph once more those coral doors unclose!245
Let Heav'n proceed from those celestial gates,
Already sure resistless rapture flows,
And on thy breath ethereal odour waits.
Oh! let me dwell for ever on that sound,
Still let me hang delighted on that voice,250
There fix'd I rest tho' all the world around
Should strive to tear me from my partial choice.
Delirious fool it is not Ida speaks!
Loud from the mountains pour the threatning floods,
O'er these drear walls the furious tempest breaks255
And the storm rages thro' th'affrighted woods.
No tongue pronounces my lov'd Ida's name,
My longing ears in vain the sound desire,
My constant thoughts this poor indulgence claim,
While falt'ring accents on my lips expire.260
Vainly I court submission, gentlest power,
The wretch's best associate, tenderest friend,
Wisdom and she have left me in this hour,
And every hope of comfort now must end:
For what can future hope to me disclose,265
To me abandon'd, lost, and desolate,
Will time return in pity to my woes,
On me to bid reverted Nature wait?
And thou Oh tomb! where all my hopes are laid
Wilt thou my silent treasure e'er restore?270
Give back to earth the fair embodied shade
And bid the clay cold dust revive once more?
Then shall my beating heart this pang resign
My charmed eyes shall welcome light again!
Ah wretch this never, never must be thine,275
Heaven smiles on all but smiles on thee in vain!
So stands the barren cliff expos'd, alone,
Nor feels the genial, vegetative sway,
On its cold brow no balmy sweets are known,
Nor kindly influence of the vernal ray.280
Beneath, the circling meadows cultur'd glow,
With yellow harvests, and with forests green,
The voice of festive mirth resounds below,
And smiling industry and joy are seen.
Oft in the transient beam of opening Heav'n285
The vallies brighten, and rejoicing sing,
While clouds and darkness to that step are driv'n
Where snows eternal mock the powerless Spring.
Thus am I doom'd the storm of fate to bear,
To woo the lightning, and the tempests rage,290
Condemn'd to Solitude perpetual, drear,
And grief which time itself can ne'er assuage.
Oh Albion! Oh my country! never more
Must those sad eyes review thy cherish'd land!
Hail with exulting heart thy distant shore,295
Or gaze impatient at thy whiten'd strand.
Might I but once behold the scenes of youth,
Ere Death the wretched exile's eyes shall close,
Remembrance sweet methinks awhile might sooth,
And lull my sorrows to a short repose.300
Vain Murmurer peace! for what can memory give,
What but must sting thee with redoubled smart?
In dark Oblivion let me silent love,
And drown the thoughts which agonize my heart!

Written in an ALMANACK
1805. [5] 

To the year which departs, shall another succeed,
And with similar seasons the months shall proceed,
For the planets shall roll with unvarying course
While unmoved in its brightness stands fixed their great source.
Tho' the rich hues that blush on the banners of Spring,5
May fade in the fervors that summer shall bring,
Yet again shall young May by the Zephyrs be woo'd
And again shall her couch with each blossom be strewed.
Even thus tho' the gift which is offered thee here,
Is doomed by its nature to last but a year,10
Yet the love that receives, & the love that bestows,
With sweet tokens renewed unremittingly glows.

The World [6] 

Oh! sacrifice no more thy peace, thy joys
To the ungrateful World! it but insults
Thy wasted anguish, and thy votive cares.
When served with faithful, unremitting toil
It slights, and once provoked, approves no more.5
While Virtue, ever graciously is prompt
To pay the smallest offering with a smile.
By present compensation, future peace
She still rewards each sacrifice, & joys
With sweet parental fondness to accept10
Repentance, as atonement absolute.

from Jeremiah Chap XXXI. Ver 15.
Nov:r 1800. [7] 

Hark the voice of loud lament
Sounds thro' Ramah's saddened plain,
There cherished grief, there pining discontent,
And desolation reign.
There, 'mid her weeping train,5
See Rachel for her children mourn,
Disconsolate, forlorn!
The comforter she will not hear
And from his soothing strains all hopeless turns her ear.
Daughter of Affliction peace10
Let at last thy sorrows cease,
Wipe thy sadly streaming eye,
Look up; Behold thy children nigh!
Lo! thy vows have all been heard!
See how vainly thou hast feared,15
See from the destroyer's land,
Comes thy loved lamented band:
Free from all their conquered foes
Glorious shall they seek repose;
Surest hope for thee remains,20
Smile at all thy former pains;
Joy shall with thy children come
And all thy smiling bowers shall bloom.

Imitated. Jan.y 1805. [8] 

From sorrow's depths to thee I cry,
O Thou! who know'st my inmost fear.
The unuttered prayer, the half breathed sigh,
Still let it reach thy pitying ear!
Unworthy as I am, from thee5
My soul with hope will mercy claim,
For Thou hast made us; Thou canst see,
With mercy, crimes, which man would blame.
If thou should'st mark, with eye severe,
Thy children's faults, Ah! who could stand?10
Ah! who with boldness could appear
Or bless his God's creating hand?
Despair might then with impious voice
Mock the vain tears of penitence,
And curse existence, not his choice,15
Sad boon of free Omnipotence!
But Mercy ever dwells with Thee
Still to forgiveness Thou art prone!
That all with fearful hope may see
Their only refuge is thy throne.20
On Thee, with humble confidence,
My suffering soul for peace shall wait,
Thy love will comfort speak, and hence
Thy word my hopes shall animate.
The languid sufferer doomed to weep25
While painful nights their course delay,
Hopeless of sweet refreshing sleep
Not more desires the morning ray,
Than this poor harassed, troubled soul
Hath watched for inly-whispered peace,30
'Till mercy shall its fears control
And bid its anxious sorrows cease.
And still at mercy's sacred seat
Let all thy children; Lord! be found.
For love is there, and at thy feet35
Consoling hopes, and joys abound.

Written when a detachment of Yeomen were sent against the rebel army. [9] 

Oh! my gallant dear defenders,
Beloved Yeomen! Erin's pride!
Every hope my soul surrenders,
If we thus your force divide.
When, to meet a savage foe,5
Each exulting hero armed,
Weeping I beheld them go,
Every fear my heart alarmed.
Yes, I marked the electric flame
Run thro' every bosom bold,10
As o'erjoyed, each heard his name
In the glorious list enrolled.
In the hour of doubt and terror,
For myself I felt no fear,
But I mourned my country's error,15
Shed for her the bitter tear.
And for you, beloved Yeomen!
Oh! what tears I shed for you!
Save them Heaven! from foes inhuman,
Shield those breasts so firm, so true.20
Must those chosen youths then perish?
Is it thus, just Heaven! decreed?
Must the fondest hope we cherish,
Must our gallant Yeomen bleed?
No, with omens more auspicious,25
Linda, cheer thy trembling heart
Heaven shall hear thy prayers propitious,
Heaven shall take thy heroes' part!
All my wishes Heaven hath granted,
If, my fears and sorrows past,30
I shall see these youths undaunted
Gloriously return at last.
But if, o'er my country lowering,
Ruin must her banners wave,
Sheltered from the storm devouring,35
Let me find a timely grave.


Ah! well I know what pangs await
Where feeling prompts the frequent sigh,
Nor to be envied is the state
Of boasted Sensibility.
Philosophy will ne'er despise5
The smile which calm Indifference wears,
Tho' coarse and homely to our eyes
Her unattractive form appears.
That homely coarseness plainly shews
The soundness of her healthful state,10
It speaks an undisturbed repose
That slumbers mid the storms of fate.
Those storms which can at once deprive
Of every hope, & peace destroy
In souls to pleasure more alive15
Who hourly taste each transient joy.
But Wisdom sure may something yield
To meliorate their tender woes,
Her aid afford a timely shield,
To guard their trembling weak repose.20
Let her assist the softer heart
Which fortune's frowns too deeply feels,
Its hopes to hang with prudent art
But loosely on her giddy wheels.
Oh! let them, warned, to drink forbear25
Too deeply from joy's flowing horn,
Refuse her proffered gifts to share,
Her sudden flight they so may scorn.
The prince who graciously received
A beauteous toy of fragile frame,30
By which the artist vain believed
To gain a proud immortal name,
To pieces dashed the glittering toy
A weak regret in time to spare,
Lest chance should unforseen destroy35
The darling object of his care.
Prudence the caution would approve
And bids us learn to imitate,
And what too ardently we love
Timely forego, preventing fate.40

["See while the Juggler Pleasure smiles"] [11] 

See while the Juggler Pleasure smiles
Before our dazzled face,
Enchanted by her various wiles
We watch each sportive grace.
But while the fascinating Dame5
Holds fix'd our wond'ring eyes,
She robs us of our peace and fame
The gems we most should prize.

[If Slander sting thy swelling heart] [12] 

If Slander sting thy swelling heart
Let this assuage the cruel woe,
The Wasp still turns his venom'd dart
'Gainst sweetest flowers that brightest glow.

On the acquittal of Hardy &c --
Dec:r 1794. [13] 

Oh! Erskine! say does not thy generous breast
Beat high with triumph at thy country's love?
Thy strong exertions dost thou not approve,
And deem thy virtue and thy labours blest?
When proud Oppression heard thy nervous voice5
He shrunk behind the shield which Falsehood rear'd;
The injur'd sufferer then no longer fear'd,
And Truth and Justice bad the world rejoice.
But who for thee shall twine the laurel bough
While sanction'd Murder stalks in martial shew?10
What heav'n-taught numbers in thy praise shall flow?
And who prepare the wreath to bind thy brow?
Sweeter, far sweeter task to raise thy fame
Than his, whose tribute conquering tyrants claim!

Ode 15. [14] 

Graceful dove, on pinion light,
Whither dost thou bend thy flight?
Whence the fragrance thou dost bear
Breathing thro' the perfumed air,
Showering from thy rapid wing5
All the odours of the spring?
Fond enquirer, let me go
Sappho's dove thou sure shouldst know.
To Bathylus, to her love,
Sappho sends her faithful dove,10
To Bathylus who all hearts
Rules by soft bewitching arts.
Gift of Venus for a song
I to Sappho now belong,
And to both forever true,15
Love I serve, and Sappho too.
Soaring thro' the liquid air
See the tablets which I bear
Promised for my swift return
Liberty which yet I spurn.20
Wherefore should I wander wide
O'er the mountain's pathless side,
Or weary seek the tender shoot
To crop the wild wood's tasteless fruit,
When now from Sappho's hand, at will,25
I snatch my food with fearless bill,
From the full bowl allowed to sip
Just kissed by Sappo's ruby lip;
A weary wanderer thro' air,
What greater freedom could I share,? [15] 30
While hovering sportive o'er her head
My fluttering pinions thus I spread,
Or resting on her lyre I hear
Its magic sounds with ravished ear.
Enough - farewell - loquacious grown,35
Sappho will her dove disown.

Madagascar eclogue
Imitated from the Chev. du Parney. [16] 

Fairest of the captive train,
Raise thy silky-curtain'd eye;
Cease thy tears, and speak what pain
Taught thy lovely breast that sigh.
Shall the wretched Vaina dare5
Here her sorrows to deplore?
To her King her fears declare
Those eyes shall see her love no more.
Lovelier than the morn's first ray
Where is thy beloved gone?10
Vaina, beauteous captive say
Has thy lover faithless flown?
In the battle's dreadful day
Fierce and fearful was the fight.
There perhaps he breathless lay,15
Loving freedom, scorning flight.
Vaina, weep his loss no more,
Death, or flight his portion be,
Fate shall love and joy restore,
In thy King thy lover see.20
Let my Sovereign's pitying eye
Mark the tears which bathe his feet,
In the dust his slave would lie
Nor his angry glances meet.
Vaina fearlessly impart25
Whence thy griefs redoubled rise?
Chosen of thy monarch's heart,
Fairest in thy monarch's eyes.
To Vaina's lips with fond consent
Hath not her lover's oft been prest?30
Those eyes to earth now sadly bent,
To his have all her heart confest.
Hath he not on this breast reclin'd?
Dwells he not ever in this heart?
And shall the power of earth combin'd35
Force his lov'd image to depart?
Captive maid, receive this veil;
Hide thy charms from every eye;
From thy King no wish conceal.
Nothing will he now deny40
Oh permit thy wretched slave,
'Mid the fallen youths to seek
Him who fell a victim brave,
Let her press his pallid cheek.
Maid of sorrow, go in peace,45
Perish him whose barbarous loves
Could for selfish joys encrease
The woe thy gentle bosom proves.

The Kiss
Imitated from Voiture
Le soleil ne luit pas &c; [17] 

When the Sun with amorous beams
Greets with kisses soft the rose,
Pleas'd the blushing beauty seems,
And with brighter lustre glows.
When his harbinger of joy5
Tells Aurora he is near,
Blushes of celestial dye
O'er her glowing charms appear.
But a brighter, vermeil hue
Deepen'd in my Celia's face,10
Than the modest morn ere knew,
Or the rose's bashful grace.
As I snatch'd the sudden kiss,
From my lips my heart hath flown,
Ravish'd by th' enchanting bliss,15
Mad resign'd its native throne.
This deserted breast it left,
Thro' those lips it past to thine,
Of my "bosom's lord" bereft, [18] 
Hopeless now I languid pine.20
There, a wretched slave enchain'd,
Pants the trembling pris'ner still,
Still reluctantly retain'd,
Captive to thy sovereign will.
See thy sad repentant lover,25
Of himself and thee bereft,
Let him now his peace recover,
Willing to restore his theft.
Dearly paid the fatal treasure,
Oh forgive the transient bliss!30
Yield me up my bosom's treasure,
And let me give back the Kiss!

Imitated from a Sonnet
Written by
Mad. de la Valliere [19] 

Yes, all must perish, all must fade,
The tenderest heart must cease to love;
Ah fool! by hope in vain betray'd,
Who taught unchanging truth to prove.
The years of old in all their course5
Eternal loves have never seen,
Nor constancy with greater force
O'er ages yet to come shall reign.
Her laws alas, thou wilt not hear,
No skill thy changeful heart can bind,10
Thy vows may charm today the ear,
But fly before to-morrow's wind.
And what so late possess'd the art
Thy fondness too much priz'd to gain,
Already, banish'd from thy heart,15
Thy pity now can scarce obtain.
Oh Love! to whom at once I owe
All that can sooth, or rend my soul;
Dear source of all my joy and woe,
Why feel I still thy strong control?20
Give me like him, releas'd & free,
To bear no more thy heavy chain:
Or, Oh take back his liberty
And touch his heart to share my pain.

Imitated from Du Moustier [20] 

Submit at length, poor struggling heart,
To drink the cold Lethean draught,
With every fond memorial part,
Tear from thy bleeding breast the shaft.
That bleeding breast, this weeping eye,5
The balm of peace shall then restore,
And thou may'st then forget to sigh,
And think of him so lov'd no more.
And must I think of him no more?
With trembling transport own his voice?10
Nor bless the joy-admitting door
Which opening bad my soul rejoice?
The morn no more shall see me rise
Eager to watch his hop'd return,
And stretch in vain my longing eyes,15
And all the day impatient mourn.
Must I no more expect him here,
And count the weary hours in sorrow,
And sigh as evening shades appear,
Hope whisp'ring still "he comes to-morrow?"20
Must I no more indulge the dreams
Which oft could solitude beguile?
Where seated by me yet he seems,
And fancy paints th'enchanting smile.
Must I, alas, no longer now25
Image delights where he appears?
And breathes for me the tender vow,
And marks with soften'd eye my tears.
Delusions, whose bewitching power
Supported oft my widow'd heart,30
And thou, who gladden'd sorrow's hour,
False, flattering Hope! with all I part.
But worse than every varied pain,
Than all the ills I suffer'd yet,
And sure the hardest to sustain35
Is the chill voice which says Forget.

Imitated from the Chev. du Parney
Il est tems mon Eleonore!&c
1798. [21] 

The time is come, beloved friend!
The moment of delusion past!
Here let our faults, our weakness end,
And here our errors cease at last.
'Tis time to stop the idle tears5
Which tender sorrow taught to flow,
Silence the hopes, resist the fears,
Forbid the sigh, restrain the woe.
The brilliant moments of delight
Are past, the sweet enchantment o'er,10
Our swift wing'd pleasures take their flight,
Oh let us dream of joy no more!
Oh cease the image to recal
Of pleasures which must ne'er return;
Forget the past, and banish all15
The fond ideas love would mourn!
I quit this melancholy spot,
Where Hope oft sung her syren song,
While deaf to all that reason taught
I madly listen'd to her tongue.20
The laws of duty heard at length
I yield to her severe control,
And virtue's hand with patient strength
Shall burst the fetters of my soul.
Thy voice I must no longer hear25
But in this last and sad Adieu,
And to that sound, which most I fear,
Eternal absence must ensue.
Yet tho' a dreaded distance vast,
And ocean's waves divide our fate,30
My tedious days shall not be past
Unconscious of thy future state.
With beating heart, attentive ear,
Thy much lov'd name I oft shall seize,
Thou too, wilt sure with interest hear,35
The name which once had power to please.
Accustom'd to this cruel pain
My heart may absence learn to bear,
But still thy image shall retain
'Till life shall throb no longer there! -- 40

Eheu fugaces &c Lib.II. Ode XIV. [22] 

Alas! my friend, the flying years
Glide with an all-resisting force!
Time mocks our idly-wasted tears,
Our efforts vain to stop his course.
Can piety delay his speed,5
Or hide his traces from our eyes?
Ah no, tho' hecatombs should bleed,
And hourly prayers invoke the skies!
Destroying age his step attends,
And daily steals from life some charm,10
'Till faint beneath his power it bends,
Expecting death's all-conquering arm.
For this at length must be our fate,
To this alike we all must yield;
From him who boasts his regal state,15
To the poor slave who ploughs his field.
Yes, we have breathed the vital air,
And seen the sun's enlivening light,
The fruits of earth awhile to share,
Have toiled the day, and wept the night.20
For this, condemned, the price to pay,
We sink at last beneath the grave,
Forced to forego each tender stay,
And pass th'irremeable wave.
In vain we guard, with idle care,25
Our bodies destined to the tomb,
In vain we shun the noxious air,
The fatal hour shall bring our doom.
Regardless of surrounding ease,
Death hovers o'er Arcadian bowers,30
Nor, but his destined prey can seize,
Tho' sanguine Mars invoke his powers.
No form of danger need appal,
No skill our cherish'd good can shield;
One certain fate awaits on all,35
Nor cautious love defence can yield.
Fearless, my friend, pursue thy way,
Tho' loud the hoarse Atlantic roars,
Tho' threatening rocks demand their prey,
And pale disease should waste the shores.40
Ah! what awaits the pleasing friend,
The loved companion prized in vain?
Soon, soon to Death our joys descend,
Nor shall we long to weep remain.
The flowers shall blow, the sun shall rise,45
The fragrant earth shall charm the eye,
When we no more these charms can prize,
And in the dust forgotten lie.
Of all this earth which blooms so gay,
Nought but the grave shall soon be ours,50
Exchanged for night the cheerful day,
For cypress glooms these roseate bowers.

Lib: I. Ode. IV.
Solvitur acris &c [23] 

At last the wintry gloom is o'er,
The mingled storm no longer flies,
Inclement winds are heard no more,
And sweet Favonius rules the skies. [24] 
Once more the sailor quits his home,5
And hears with hope the flattering gales,
The syren breezes tempt to roam,
And softly woo his swelling sails.
To gambol o'er the vivid green
From whence dissolving frosts are fled,10
Jocund the sportive flocks are seen,
Fresh springing from their wintry shed.
The labourer now no longer leaves
Reluctantly his blazing fire,
The cheerful dawn he glad perceives15
And hails it with the vocal choir.
But when pale Cynthia rules the night, [25] 
The nymphs by Cytherea led, [26] 
With quick, alternate, footsteps light,
In the gay dance together tread.20
With myrtles fresh, and tender leaves,
Now be your graceful tresses bound,
Or cull the sweetest, flowery wreaths
Which Spring profusely throws around.
Behold! each hill arrayed anew.25
See how the fruitful vallies glow!
The softened earth assumes each hue,
The breathing sweets around us blow.
Now in the shadowy sacred groves
The sacrifice to Faunus bring, [27] 30
Dress the green altar of the Loves,
And let the nymphs around it sing.
Our little life forbids delay,
Alas! how soon our Spring is gone!
How quickly fades our summer's day,35
Our transient bloom of pleasure flown.
With equal steps pale Death invades
The lowly cot, and lofty dome,
Arcadia's bloom his presence fades,
And Virtue's self even finds a tomb.40
Thee too, Beloved youth! his power
Shall soon oppress with gloomy night,
No more to glad our festive hour,
For ever vanished from our sight!

Imitated from an Elegy attributed to Sulpicia
Est qui te, Cerinthe, &c.

Vide Tibul. Lib.iv.
May. 1803. [28] 
Oh! ever dear, and sacred day,
That gave Cerinthus to the light,
And bad him hold unrivall'd sway,
O'er every key of soft delight.
The fates on him, with lavish hand,5
Bestow'd each captivating art,
And smil'd to see him still demand
A worthless gift, his Lesbia's heart. [29] 
But since propitious to thy vows
That heart Cerinthus, now is thine,10
And hope the mutual prayer allows,
That brighter days for each shall shine
By the dark glances of thine eyes,
And by that sweet persuasive tongue,
On which with speechless, fond surprise15
Her charmed soul so oft hath hung.
By all those graceful, winning charms
She lov'd in silence still to trace,
Indulgent hear her weak alarms,
And if thou canst, her terrors chace.20
Say that with her, and her alone,
Thy constant heart can sympathise,
Thy purest wishes all her own,
Thy nightly prayers, thy daily sighs.
Or if to Lesbia's love unjust,25
Thine heart a newer chain can wear,
Unmindful of that sacred trust,
Our parting sorrows bid thee share.
Oh, then release her captive soul,
In vain to hopeless woe reserv'd,30
Let both be freed from love's control,
Or both in willing bonds preserv'd.
Oh, rather thus, thus both remain
Indissolubly, dearly join'd!
Nor ever may this golden chain,35
Some future, fatal day unbind.

Miser Catulle &c. [30] 

Fond Catullus! cease to grieve
What is lost, esteem as lost.
Never can regrets retrieve
Pleasures which thy fates have crost.
Brilliant shone the star of day,5
Smiling o'er thy happy hours,
When beneath thy Lesbia's sway,
Love diverted all thy powers.
Loving more than youth e'er lov'd,
Once adored! I sure may say10
O'er the joys we both have prov'd,
Brilliant shine the star of day!
But she joys in thee no more,
Bid the false one then Adieu!
Wretched fool! at length give o'er15
Her, who flies thee, to pursue.
But no more thy love desiring,
See me changed, thy scorn forbear!
Nothing now from thee requiring,
Hard of heart, and false as fair!20
Yet I know, regret will oft
Stain thy cheeks with tears for me,
When recalled in moments soft,
There our pleasures past shalt see.
When no more thy slave returning25
Dwells enraptured on thy charms,
Who with equal transports burning
E'er shall seek thy circling arms?
Thou who know'st so well the pleasure
Of the fond, impassion'd sigh,30
Thou wilt mourn thy slighted treasure,
What can love like mine supply?
Yes, I know that soon relenting,
Scorn for scorn she shall receive,
But thy fate no more lamenting,35
Fond Catullus, cease to grief!

Si qua recordanti &c [31] 

If aught of conscious worth the soul can cheer,
Or wasted faith, or truth in vain sincere,
Or purest sentiments unstained by art
May with remembrance sooth the injured heart,
Then much, tho' love be lost, to thee remains,5
To heal with past delights thy present pains;
For thou, abandoned though thou art, canst claim
That self-applause which flies from guile, or blame,
And all that fond affection could perform
This hast thou done, from hopes most pure, most warm.10
All, all to perish, squandered on a heart
Which thankless owns no sympathising part;
Wherefore then idly thus consume thy soul?
Rouse thee at length, thy weak regrets control,
Collect thy strength, bid reason bring relief,15
And spite of fate itself dismiss thy grief.
'Tis hard, long cherished feelings to repel,
And each loved image from the heart expel,
But yet this must be done, fulfil the task,
Nor seek evasion, nor a respite ask:20
One only part remains, one last resource
For this exert thy soul's extremest force,
Yet this last effort make, deferred too long
And powerless as thou art, for once be strong.
Oh! sweetest Heaven, if mercy be thy boast,25
If still it love to save the wretch most lost,
Look on me now! in pity bid me rest,
Tear this consuming mischief from my breast,
These torturing pangs which inwardly destroy
Blast every hope, and poison every joy.30
I ask not love -- no more my idle prayers,
Invoke a bliss of which my soul despairs,
I ask not Heaven with purely, constant fire
That cold and faithless bosom to inspire,
My own relief is all I now implore,35
This suffering soul at last to health restore;
From these indignant pangs in mercy save,
And steep my anguish in oblivion's wave.

Veranni omnibus &c [32] 

Tenderest friend, so long deplored,
Art thou indeed returning?
To thy friends, thy home restored,
Turn to joy thy mother's mourning?
I shall see thee safe, and hear5
All the dangers thou hast past,
While thy voice, my longing ear
Sweetly satisfies at last.
Herald of approaching joys,
Blessed messenger of bliss!10
Soon his lips, and dearer eyes
I shall press with many a kiss.
Each peculiar grace so charming
I already seem to own,
Fear no more my heart alarming,15
Who such perfect bliss hath known?

Iucundum mea vita &c [33] 

Dearest! did I hear thee say
That our love should ever last?
Oh! on this auspicious day
Be thy vows sincerely past.
Purely from thy inmost soul,5
May the soothing promise flow;
May our loves united roll,
Nor divided current know.
If thine heart is wholly mine,
Oh! may fate our wishes crown!10
All our future hours entwine,
Pillowed on affection's down.

"Vivamus mea Lesbia &c" [34] 

Let us Lesbia, ever loving,
Live out life's so fleeting day,
Heed not sages stern reproving,
Heed not what the rigid say.
Lo! the Sun extinct appearing,5
In the depths of Ocean lies,
Soon Aurora's whispers cheering,
O'er the hills shall bid him rise.
But when death's perpetual slumbers
Once have sealed our eyes in night,10
Magic charms, nor magic numbers,
Wake us to no second light.
While the fates are yet consenting,
Now with kisses crown our joy,
Kisses countless still preventing15
Numbering of the curious eye.

"Quaeris quot mihi &c" [35] 

Rather bid thine ardent lover
Tell the sands on Libya's shore,
Than the number to discover
Of the joys his lips implore.
Countless thousands be thy kisses5
As the starry eyes of night,
When the lovers' secret blisses
Silently she veils from sight.
Mixed with mine in sweet confusion,
So swiftly let thy kisses flow,10
That inquisitive intrusion
Never may their number know.
Thy Catullus fondly sighing,
Kisses numberless would ask,
That the envious eye copying15
Vain may own the curious task.

from the Carm: Quad. [36] 
"Vespere sub verno &c" [37] 

See the fair, vernal Eve begins to smile!
At length the showers are past; yet drops awhile
The sweet relenting face of Heaven distils,
And the fresh breeze with balmy fragrance fills.
Now shines the bow with interrupted gleam5
While the fields brighten in th'uncertain beam.
O'er the moist plains the frequent fungus swells,
A deeper ordure on the valley dwells.
Shook from the aged branch the vigorous snail
Dares in the path his shining course to trail,10
While mid the thicket that o'erhangs the way
The glow-worm trembling shoots his emerald ray;
Ah! not for us could Eve such charms diffuse,
Or shed o'er all those brightly lovelier hues,
Had not our morning's lustre been o'erpowered15
And black deforming clouds o'er day's sad bosom lowered!

Cupid's Quiver
"Diversos animos &c" [38] 

To fix the conquest of each varying mind
The Idalian Boy has various arms assigned;
If eagle plumage cleave the sounding air
Then heroes' hearts are doomed to amorous care;
But if the peacock's gaudy tail supplies5
A lighter wound, the coxcomb Cotta dies;
And still, loquacious girl! to paint thy words
The chattering pie his ready plume affords.
But when enamoured on his Lesbia's strain,
The languid lover hangs with thrilling pain10
'Tis Philomela wings the softer dart,
And bids each liquid note dissolve the heart.
While 'mid the wanton youth he hurls his arrows,
Light fly the feathers of his Mother's sparrows.
But when my Celia's heart he sought to move15
He chose the plumage of her favorite dove,
And gently stole from the unguarded nest
This softest down that cloathed his faithful breast.
Ah! who can hope to shun the crafty Boy
Who can so sweetly wound, such different arms employ?20

"Picta auro &c" [39] 

Busy, hovering, timid guest,
Come, and share my friendly feast,
Buzzing, bathe thy taper limb,
Hum the Anacreontic hymn.
Fearless, here thy light wing clip,5
Largely quaff, or sparing sip,
Here indulge the genial hour,
Hail the joy-bestowing power,
While the fates yet lingering stay,
And o'er thy little web delay,10
Thy little web too quickly crushed,
In dark oblivion rudely brushed,
With doom alas! resembling mine;
Yet must not you or I repine,
Since death alike triumphant sat15
O'er Virgil and o'er Virgil's gnat!

"Parvula progenies &c" [40] 

Little progeny of Spring!
To the light-winged Zephyr born,
Thoughtless, idle, chirping thing,
Gayest tenant of the morn!
Cherished still by Ceres' care,5
Dear to Phoebus ever thou!
Truly they have bid thee share,
All that yields the fruitful plough.
While the fragrant turf is green,
While the yellow harvests wave,10
All that culture's eye hath seen
All that earth profusely gave.
All is thine! behold for thee
Their milky arms the lillies spread!
And the dewy nectar see15
O'er thy drunken goblets shed!


When smiling fate propitious to my prayer
Leads me with trembling joy to Laura's feet,
That soothing voice relieves my dark despair,
Which Love himself inspires with accents sweet.
Eager I catch each rapture-breathing sound,5
And gaze with transport on her smile benign,
The loves which in each rosy blush are found,
The sprinkled gold with which her tresses shine.
Ah! where is now the calm that once I felt,
No longer peace within this heart shall reign,10
In soft confusion at her sight I melt,
And feel what language never can explain.
Absent, her voice still vibrates in my ear,
Her image still my soul unkindled fires,
No other sound but this I seem to hear,15
No other form attraction e'er inspires.
But Ah! the passion which my bosom knows
My silent tongue must never dare express.
The still-consuming flame which inly glows
In secret ravished I must ne'er confess.20

Madme Deshouliers. Dec.r 1795 [42] 

Sweet blooming Flowers! pride of our glowing plains
Your life tho' short, is blest, and free from pains.
Too oft alas, one swift, but happy day
Concludes your charms, and blights your beauties gay.
The kindest fate but a few suns allows5
Even to thy lustre, queen of summer, Rose!
Yet ah! lament not this, love-favored flowers!
Tho' short your date, tho few your balmy hours,
No crime, no sorrow, and no anxious fears,
Shed o'er your peaceful joys their baneful tears.10
Your innocent delights are ever free
From stern constraint, and cruel jealousy;
That pure unmingled pleasure which you know
When spring returns, and Zephyr whispers low [43] 
Soft notes of love to the enamoured heart,15
Is ne'er disturbed by dark suspicion's art.
No cruel doubt your happiness destroys,
Tho' far from you he tastes of other joys;
And tho' he courts each odour as it flies,
And tho' for others he inconstant sighs,20
And tho' your absent sweets he never mourns,
Unconscious you rejoice when he returns!
Too delicate a wish his heart to fix,
Ne'er in your joys its bitterness can mix;
You never can that mortal anguish prove25
Which feeds on tender hearts, when what they love
Inconstant, or ungrateful they behold
Warms with another love, or to their passion cold

Imitated from Florian [44] 

Alas! how cruel are the cares of Love,
But the cold void, which souls unfeeling prove,
Is far more cruel, and the gaudy toys
Which pride and grandeur offer us for joys,
With vanity's alluring, empty train5
Of pleasures, are not worth love's tender pain.
He on whom fortune lavishes her store
'Till greedy avarice can ask no more,
Whom slaves surround, whom honors seem to bless
Oft feels a void more painful than distress.10
He then looks back upon his humbler years,
Regretted youth to memory's eye appears.
The tender pleasures which his heart had known
When love and innocence were all his own.
Tho' fortune frowned upon his state obscure,15
Perhaps despised, and indigently poor,
Yet Love was his - and its remembrance sweet,
Tho' but remembrance -- yields him charms more great
Than all the enjoyments of the present hour
Tho' heaped with riches, and adorned with power.20
Oh Love! 'tis thou alone canst fill the heart,
Thou only canst can a pure delight impart,
Secure of each joy which fills the ravished mind
While sacred virtue to thy path is joined;
Oh! may she still walk ever at thy side25
Be thou her comforter, and she thy guide;
Offspring of Heaven! Oh! may you never leave
Each other's path, but mutual aid receive.
And if misfortunes in your road you meet
Or thorny cares perplex your wandering feet,30
Still sooth each other thro' the painful way,
And never, never from each other stray!
Let not these woes your peace serene destroy,
They soon shall pass -- and pure unmingled joy
With added lustre thro' the envious night35
Shall shed around your path celestial light,
While soft reflecton on distress endured
Shall add new charms unto your bliss secured.
So when the storms are past, and beating rains
No more descend in torrents o'er the plains,40
A fresher verdure o'er the land is seen
While liquid pearls adorn the brilliant green,
The glowing flowers now raise the drooping head
And o'er the lands a richer fragrance shed.
With sweeter songs the birds from every spray45
Bless the returning sun's enlivening ray,
And every charm the various scents bestow
Reviving with redoubled beauties glow.

From "Il primo Amore" Metastasio Canz: 15. [45] 

Ah it is true! in vain we strive
To quench this first-felt amorous fire,
While life exists 'tis still alive,
And never, never can expire.
Concealed, oppressed, the secret flame,5
Smothered by ashes seemed to die,
A gentle breeze from Zephyr came,
Sudden it rose, and blazed on high.
So when I found my tranquil breast
Free from the anxious pains of love,10
My silent passions hushed to rest,
I thought my heart was free to rove.
Resolved another view to take,
I bad the cruel fair adieu,
That instant saw the fire awake15
With all its former powers anew.
A single glance decided my fate,
Again the lovely tyrant reigns,
My bosom feels unusual weight,
And frequent sighs confess its pains.20
Amazed I felt my fears revive
Each other wish at once resigned,
Nor other hopes, nor joys alive
And in her eyes my fate designed.
Their powerful sway I own once more,25
With anxious wishes pine again,
Again my hopeless love deplore
And gaze in silent, tender pain.
In vain to seek relief I fly,
To secret shades, or crowds, or noise,30
Her form still swims before my eye,
My heart still hears alone her voice.
Ah! what avails corporeal flight?
Some object, whereso'er I turn,
Brings her loved image to my sight,35
And busy memory bids me mourn.
Here I recal the time when first
The gentle spring of love I found,
In hopes soft arms then sweetly nursed
By fatal chains unconscious bound.40
When all enraptured at the sight
I watched each movement of her eye,
And in that mirror clear and bright,
Saw and adored my destiny.
This place was witness of the vow45
My timid heart in secret made,
And painfully reminds me now
With what delight those vows were paid.
There I remember how confused
In vain to tell my love I tried,50
My timid tongue the task refused,
The amorous sounds within me died.
Here I reflect on what I felt,
My love displeased, reserved the while,
And there in tenderness I melt55
In memory of a gracious smile.
That smile could ever fill my soul
With jealousy, or hope, or joy:
Its power my heart could still control
And the dark glooms of doubt destroy.60
Here I remember with a sigh
The transports of my throbbing breast,
When first, young love had timidly
Its trembling, raptured hopes confest.
Here I again my sorrows mourn65
Again my doubts and terrors bear,
While cruel Memory bids return
The hours of sad suspence & care.
While round me lovely nymphs appear,
And amorous youths their graces view,70
I praise their forms, their beauties rare,
The lilly and the rose's hue.
But while I speak of Celia's eyes,
Of Daphne's shape, or Chloe's face,
"Thy love," my whispering heart replies,75
"Has matchless beauty, matchless grace."
Thus every object food becomes
For the devouring flame I prove,
And fuel adds to what consumes
Each wish, each thought, each hope but Love.80
Each charm reminds me but of thee
Dear Idol of my constant heart!
And never shall that heart be free
From its sweet fetters to depart.
My soul no laws but thine receives85
Nor do I of my fate complain,
Sweet is his lot who only lives
A subject in thy gentle reign.


Love with his finger light imprest
Near her bright lip a mystic seal,
And softness there delights to rest
Ambrosia from her breath to steal.

The Violet.
from the french [47] 

Modest in colour and in dress,
In modest shades I grew,
And free from pride beneath the grass
I hid my sweets from view;
But if once taken from my shade5
And on your breast revealed,
The humblest flower will then be made
The proudest of the field.

SONG [48] 

How hard with anguish unreveal'd
Easy and gay to appear,
And teach the lip by sorrow seal'd
An artful smile to wear.
The heart consum'd by secret pains5
Which must not, dare not speak.
Whose silent tongue to none complains
Must sigh, or swelling break.
Then cease by stern reproach to load
Fresh sorrows on the opprest;10
Strew not with thorns his rugged road
Who fainting pants for rest.

Adapted to an Air by Mozart
1806. [49] 

Come May! bring pleasant weather,
And bring the maid I love,
That we, once more, together
May thro' the greenwood rove.
The dreary winter over,5
Soft hope returns with thee,
To bless the longing lover
With all he sighs to see.
Like me, with smiles of gladness,
To welcome thee, sweet May!10
All nature bids her sadness
At thy approach give way;
The year's delicious morning,
For love, and beauty deckt,
Thy smiles the world adorning,15
The face of Heaven reflect.
Shed, from thy lip of roses,
Those sweets that breathe delight,
While Flora's hand discloses
Thy charms all glowing bright.20
Unveil thy bosom's treasure
And from thine eyes let fall
Those dewy drops of pleasure
That joy to life recall.

Imitated from Horace
Albi, nostrorum sermenum, candide judex, &c [50] 

Oh thou! whose ever partial ear
Whate'er I write consents to hear,
Say what doth now thy thoughts engage?
The poet's, or historian's page?
Or doth thy comic pencil true,5
Exceed what Bunbury can do, [51] 
And by its ever charming power
Shew us the follies of the hour?
Or, wandring o'er the peaceful mead,
Dost thou thy vacant morning lead,10
Thro' those sweet woods, o'er that green sod
Which we so oft together trod?
There, while indulging graver thought,
Oh let thy friend be ne'er forgot;
For, in those hours of seeming rest,15
The active inmate of thy breast
Then most employ'd, then farthest flies
And brings the absent to thine eyes --
If bounteous Heav'n hath given to thee
A soul from furious passion free,20
A lovely form, a cheerful mind,
A ready wit and taste refind,
Fair culture hath adorn'd thy breast
And all thy native genius drest;
The anxious Mother's utmost prayer25
Can scarce exceed a lot so fair,
Thus blest with health, and easy grace,
Which mind can give the speaking face
While sprung from no ignoble line
Thy talents may conspicuous shine,30
Whom Fortune o'er the vulgar lifts,
Not wanting even her golden gifts,
And, what above them all I prize,
The art to enjoy, so rare, so wise!
Amid a world, where cares surround,35
And idle hopes, and fears abound,
Oh! let us pass our hours serene,
Free from desires, and free from spleen!
Enjoy the present, happy still,
Nor tremble at some latent ill;40
Tho' clouds obscure to-morrows sky
Yet shall the passing tempest fly,
Or we, from life already past,
Be shelter'd from the angry blast,
Then why to-day's bright beam deform,45
Thro' fear of some expected storm
Or pining o'er some absent joy
Thy present peace secure, destroy?
'Tis thus my friend I wish to live,
The tyrant Care I thus deceive;50
I scarcely hope, my fears are few,
And peace alone my views pursue.
Say canst thou too content embrace
A life with such a placid face
Or smiling on thy humbler friend,55
Sometimes with her thy soul unbend
When free thy breast from vain alarms,
And Hope itself but calmly charms.

EMILY [52] 

Peace, peace, nor utter what I must not hear!
Too much already hast thou been believed,
Think not thy words can reach alone mine ear,
In this weak heart too easily received.
Why wouldst thou mock me with a vain complaint,5
Why speak of feelings which thou dost not know?
Too well thy lips can fond affection paint,
But from thy heart those accents never flow.
What dost thou wish? what would this language mean?
What can the idle boast to thee avail?10
To wound my peace, to blast my hours serene,
O'er every hope of future bliss prevail?
Is this thy sport? ah! thoughtless and unjust!
For I have marked thee with a jealous eye!
Since reason first forbad my hopes to trust,15
And virtue call'd me from the snare to fly.
Why should I tell the struggles which have torn,
This simply credulous, this trusting heart,
As down the stream of fond affection borne
I saw the tranquil shores of peace depart.20
As the light flag impelled against the breeze
Looks back and trembles with reluctance vain,
My vanquish'd soul reflects on former ease
Yet powerless sinks submissive to the chain.
Oft when my friendly fate had bid us part,25
Thy well feigned sorrow could prevent my cure,
And absence cherished in my grateful heart,
Friendship it call'd so innocent and pure.
Yet when returned I saw this friend advance
'Expecting joy to sparkle in his eye,30
Chill'd I beheld the cold averted glance,
And proudly check'd the involuntary sigh.
Then how with scorn my weakness I despis'd
The folly which was lured by falsehood's tale,
When other smiles than those I thought were prized35
Could o'er thy false or changeful heart prevail.
Back then with trembling haste to wisdom's side
Offended delicacy bade me flee,
Accept my peace restored by wounded pride,
And think no more of tenderness or thee.40
Ah why with cruel art and idle pain
Revive the sentiments I still deplore?
Why seek what thus you slighted to regain,
And swell this breast with anxious sighs once more?
In vain the foldings of thy heart I seek45
At length by reason or by truth to trace,
Conjecture cannot from thy conduct speak,
But baffled yields to sad surprise the place.
I sought no art to captivate thy soul,
To blast the prospects of thy opening youth,50
Such selfish vanity could ne'er control
The heart which loves with innocence and truth.
Torture no more this agitated breast
With false seductive hopes of joy and love,
Suffer in calm indifference to rest55
The feelings Prudence bids me disapprove.
Yet a short while, and this sad, timid eye
No more shall meet thee with reproachful glance,
No claims have I to make, or thou deny,
For ease alone this wearied bosom pants.60

from an ancient inscription,
D. M.
Gliconi. Vernae Dulciss. [53] 

My boy! beloved boy! Ah who hath torn
Thee from the light of day? and in this tomb
Veiled all thy glowing charms in deepest gloom?
Yet here at least let me forget to mourn
While, all my woe to cheat, I see thee still5
And thus forever with thee speak; until
We rest together -- no! we shall not part!
Here will I dwell! and if oppressed by sleep,
These eyes shall cease to watch, shall cease to weep.
My spirit thus released, with joy will start 10
From its dull prison, and again with thine
In many a pure embrace of fondest love shall join!

Fidentio [54] 

Day engraved on whitest stone!
Fated for supremest joy;
Golden day, and prized more high
Than that which for my birth I own!
When my hopes were all o'erthrown,
When to my despairing eye
Gloomy death stood threatening nigh,
Thou to my relief hast flown:
Thou, sweet day for ever dear,
After absence, hath restored
My Camillus to my eyes,
Lo! for this, I grateful rear
To thee an altar, day adored!
And place my lyre a sacrifice.

Written at Brompton
January 12
1805 [55] 

Bloom, sweet Acacia, ever bloom,
And let thy graceful, pensile boughs
Wave lightly o'er the grassy tomb,
Which fate my favorite here allows.
Oh! lost, for ever lost, farewell!5
This once-loved voice thou canst not hear,
But Sorrow's self alone can tell
How bitter is this parting tear.
Beloved, beautiful, and fond!
To this sad heart too dearly bound,10
What tho' proud reason scorn the bond,
Yet was it closely, firmly wound.
Oh! thou wert mine in brighter hours!
And dear while life itself was dear,
While Pleasure shone o'er all the bowers15
That Youth and Hope delight to rear.
And thou hast seen that golden sun
'Mid heaviest clouds for ever set,
Nor shudd'ring felt, as I have done,
The hand of fate that lingers yet.20
Yes it was meet we now should part,
Our days of gaiety had fled,
And hardly thro' this languid heart
Is life's warm current feebly led.
For who, when death had closed these eyes,25
Like me would watch thee tenderly?
Thy winning ways so fondly prize,
And feel them blest by Memory.
But Oh! 'twas sad with hopeless pang
Thy dying agonies to mark,30
The cries that o'er my heart-strings rang,
The last faint glimm'ring, vital spark.
Yes! these were sad - but all is o'er
Why must I still these pangs behold?
Why hear the voice that moans no more?35
Why feel those limbs convuls'd and cold?
Oh! why must fancy still revive
The anguish thou no more canst have?
Why still in tortured Memory live
Regretted joys and transient woe?40
Then fare thee well! a long farewell
Thy melancholy mistress breathes, [56] 
But bids this sweet acacia bloom,
Her fondness and regrets to tell,
In verdant festoons, roseate wreaths45
Forever o'er her favorite's tomb.

to the
Written at Park Gate
Sept:r 1805. [57] 

"Breathe, balmy spirit of the West,
"Why are thy gales so long delayed?
"Why must this lacerated breast
"Vainly invoke thy lenient aid?
"For thee I stayed thro' wintry hours5
"In patient long captivity,
"And while stern Eurus lingring lours [58] 
"Still blighted spring's chill'd touch I flee.
"Play round this drooping brow once more,
"And gently kiss this fevered cheek,10
"To life, to liberty restore
"And hope, and health returning speak."
Thus have I oft with fruitless prayer
Wooed the mild Zephyr's tardy wing, [59] 
Languished to taste the fresh, pure air,15
The promised, healing breath of Spring.
Then wooed in vain! perversely now
Why send us here unwelcome gales?
Why must no breeze in Heaven but thou
Cling fondly to our fettered sails?20
Mild as thou art, thy prisoner still
I droop by thee unblest, confined,
To me unfriendly feel thy will
Absent or present still unkind
Go to the couch where languid pain25
Gasping invokes thy clement power,
Go sport mid Flora's glowing train
Or sigh o'er young Love's myrtle bower.
Soon will I hail thee welcome, kind,
And bid thee, on thy pinions, bear30
To friends so dear, I left behind,
The kiss of love affection's tear.
Close in thy chambers of the West,
Mid spicy sweets luxurious lie,
Or watch near the beloved's breast35
To steal the perfume of a sigh
But hie thee hence! & thou my foe,
Whose fatal blasts I dread no more,
For once propitious East wind blow,
And waft us to our isle's green shore.40

ADOREA [60] 

Illam, quidquid agit, quoquo vestigia movit
Componit furtim subsequiturque decor.
Tibullus. [61] 
When bright Adorea's speaking eyes
Assist her angel smile,
From the soothed breast each trouble flies
And care is charmed the while.
Unconscious of the secret power5
The magic influence spreads,
And her soft voice in that calm hour
The gentlest pleasure sheds
Even thus, a mild and placid light
The equal taper sends,10
Dispels around the gloom of night
And all alike befriends.
But when by every grace arrayed
Attended by each Love,
In the light dance the peerless maid15
Celestial seems to move.
The kindling eye with eager gaze
Her gliding form pursues,
Some new-born beauty still surveys
Varied as Fancy's hues;20
It is not now the lambent flame
The taper's steady light,
Those charms a brighter image claim
Which strike the astonish'd sight.
The blazing torch when waved on high,25
The vivid, dazzling ray,
That strikes at once the daring eye
And flashes in the day.
Soothed or enraptured thus we seem
As she exerts her charms,30
As the same calm or brandished beam
Dazzles, illumes or warms.


Ah! Syren Pleasure! when thy flatt'ring strains
Lur'd me to seek thee thro' thy flowery plains,
Taught from thy sparkling cup full joys to sip
And suck sweet poison from thy velvet lip,
Didst thou in opiate charms my Virtue steep, 5
Was Reason silent and did Conscience sleep?
How could I else enjoy thy faithless dreams,
And fancy day-light in thy meteor gleams,
Think all was Happiness that smiled like joy,
And with dear purchase seize each glittring toy?10
'Till, rous'd at length, deep rankling in my heart,
I felt the latent anguish of thy dart!
Oh! let the young and innocent beware,
Nor think uninjur'd to approach her snare!
Their surest conquest is the foe to shun,15
By fight infected, and by truce undone.
Secure, at distance let her shores be past,
Whose sight can poison, and whose breath can blast;
Let them not listen to her fatal song,
Nor trust her pictures, nor believe her tongue,20
Contentment blooms not on her glowing ground,
And round her splendid shrine no peace is found.
If once, enchanted by her magic charms,
They seek for bliss in Dissipation's arms,
If once they touch the limits of her realm,25
Offended Principle resigns the helm;
Simplicity forsakes the treacherous shore,
And once discarded she returns no more;
Thus the charm'd mariner on every side
Of poison'd Senegal's ill-omened tide, [63] 30
Eyes the rich carpet of the varied hue
And plains luxuriant opening to his view
Now the steep banks with towering forests crown'd
Cloath'd to the margin of the sloping ground,
Where with full foliage bending o'er the waves,35
Its verdant arms the spreading Mangrove laves;
And now smooth level lawns of deeper green
Betray the richness of th'untrodden scene;
Between the opening groves such prospects glow,
As art with mimic hand can ne'er bestow, 40
While lavish Nature wild profusion yields
And spreads unbid the rank uncultur'd fields;
Flings with fantastic hand in every gale
Ten thousand blossoms o'er each velvet vale,
And bids unclassed their fragrant beauties die 45
Far from the painter's hand or sage's eye.
From cloudless suns perpetual lustre streams,
And swarms of insects glisten in their beams.
Near and more near the heedless sailors steer,
Spread all their canvas and no warnings hear, 50
But gaze astonish'd on the enchanting shore
On forms magnificent ne'er seen before
Where on the edge of the clear liquid glass
The wondring beasts survey them as they pass,
And fearless bounding o'er their native green55
Adorn the landscape and enrich the scene.
Ah fatal scene! the deadly vapours rise
And swift the vegetable poison flies,
Putrescence loads the rank infected ground
Deceitful calms deal subtle death around60
While pale disease sheds thick unwholesome dews,
And wide their venom tainted gales diffuse
Even as they gaze their vital powers decay
Their wasted health & vigour melt away,
'Till quite extinct the animating fire65
Pale ghastly victims, they at length expire,
Of poisoned prospects which at distance charm'd
Bright to the eye, with desolation arm'd --


Oh! once again, Tranquillity!
My darksome path illume;
Or must I never, never see
Thy smiles disperse this gloom?
Lo! from the tempest-blackning sky,5
White beams the placid moon,
The clouds before her radiance fly
Thro' night's obscurest noon.
A transient calm, a moment's peace,
A struggling, lucid ray,10
Bids the wild winds a while to cease
And seems to promise day.
Short hope! again the gathering storms
With rage redoubled rise,
And heavy darkness deep deforms15
The silvery, gleaming skies.
Alas! even thus there shone for me
A gentle flattering hour,
And sooth'd, I hail'd Tranquillity!
Thy soft, restoring power.20
Ah hail'd in vain! again involv'd
Fast bound in misery,
By whirling anguish quick revolv'd
On Care's black wheel I fly.
And is there then no place of rest,25
Is hope extinct and dead?
Has Mercy clos'd her pitying breast
And Peace for ever fled?
Oh! yet return, return once more,
Ador'd Tranquillity!30
This fever'd heart to health restore,
Or lull to Apathy.
Object of all my vows! for thee
I left the rose-crown'd bands,
That sail on Pleasure's silver sea,35
Or tread her golden sands.
For thee I sought mid silent glades
Deep Quiet's lonely bowers
And hid in melancholy shades
Consum'd the languid hours.40
But not for me thy placid smile
Illumines Quiet's cell,
And here no dreams the heart beguile
With transient, joyous spell
The languid hours bring no relief,45
Tho' far from crowds & courts
The care I shunn'd, the bitter grief,
To me alone resorts.
In the dark silence of the grave
Where all things are forgot,50
There shall I find the rest I crave,
At length releas'd from thought?
There I at least may cease to feel
The bitterness of life,
The wounds that hope no more can heal,55
Her agony of strife.
Oh! welcome then thou dreaded vault!
Thou chilly, cypress gloom!
I hail the shrine which long I sought,
Its only porch, the tomb.60

1806. [65] 

Turn on me, Love, thine eye of blue,
The sunbeam of my drooping heart,
My languid hope to life renew,
One ray of joy impart.
The Spring walks forth in beauty drest,5
The brow of Heav'n looks clear the while,
I only languish all unblest,
'Till my beloved smile.
The brow of Heav'n looks clear in vain,
If my blue heav'ns are turn'd away,10
On me no life, no sweets, ye rain
Ye balmy showers of May!
Smile my belov'd! Oh! smile, as when
Our youthful loves were in their spring,
And teach this thrilling heart again 15
The song of joy to sing!

Bryan Byrne
founded on truth [66] 

Bright shines the morn o'er Carickmure,
And silvers every mountain stream,
The autumnal woods on Glenmalure
Look lovely in the slanting beam.
And hark! the cry, the cry of joy!5
The hounds spring o'er yon heathy brow;
"'Tis but the hunter's horn my boy,"
"No death-tongu'd bugle scares us now."
In vain the widow'd mother smil'd,
And clasp'd her darling to her breast,10
Horror and rage o'er all the child
A manly beauty strange imprest.
Fierce roll'd his eye of heav'n's own hue,
And the quick blood strong passions told,
As fresh the breeze of morning blew,15
From his clear brow the curls of gold.
'Tis not alone the horn so shrill,
Yon martial plume that waves on high,
Bids every infant nerve to thrill
With more than infant agony.20
Yet gentle was the soldier's heart,
Whom 'mid the gallant troop he spied,
Who let the gallant troop depart,
And check'd his eager courser's pride.
For he had caught the glance of fire,25
And seen the mother's sadden'd smile,
And mingled feelings strong inspire
The wish on each to dwell a while.
"What fears the child?" he wond'ring cried,
With courteous air as near he drew,30
"Soldier away! my father died"
"Murder'd by soldiers, men like you!"
Even while the angry cherub [67]  speaks,
He struggles from the stranger's grasp,
Kissing the tears that bath'd her cheeks,35
His little arms his mother clasp.
"And who are these?" the youth exclaim'd,
With pity touch'd, with wonder fill'd,
Ere yet his cooler reason blam'd
The early hatred deep instill'd.40
But pointing to the startled pair,
While swift down Glenmalure they fled,
He mark'd the mother's maniac air,
As seiz'd with wild and sudden dread.
"'Tis Ellen Byrne," an old man cried,45
"Poor Ellen! and her orphan boy!"
Then turn'd his silver'd brow aside,
To shun the youth's inquiring eye.
"But is there none to guard the child"
"Save that lone phrenzied widow's hand,"50
"These rocky heights, those steep woods wild,"
"Sure some more watchful eye demand."
"Ah, well he knows each rock each wood,"
"The mountain goat not more secure,"
"And he was born to hardships rude,"55
"The orphan Byrne of Carickmure."
"That boy had seen his father's blood,"
"Had heard his murder'd father's groan,"
"And never more in playful mood"
"With smiles his infant beauty shone."60
Sad was the pitying stranger's eye,
"Too well," said he, "I guess the truth,"
"His father sure was doom'd to die,"
"Some poor deluded rebel youth."
"No rebel he," with eye inflam'd,65
And cheek that glow'd with transient fire,
Rous'd to a sudden warmth exclaim'd
The hapless Ellen's aged sire.
"He did not fall in Tarah's fight,"
"No blood of his the Currah stains,"70
"Where many a ghost, that moans by night,"
"Of foully broken faith complains."
"He triumph'd not that fatal day"
"When every loyal cheek look'd pale,"
"But heard like us with sad dismay"75
"Of fallen chiefs in Clough's dark vale." [68] 
"For wedded to our Ellen's love,"
"One house was ours, one hope, one soul;"
"Tho' fierce malignant parties strove,"
"No party rage could love controul."80
"Tho' we were sprung from British race,"
"And his was Erin's early pride,"
"Yet, match'd in every loveliest grace,"
"No priest could ere their hearts divide."
"What tho' no Yeoman's arms he bore,"85
"'Twas party hate that hope forbad,"
"What tho' no martial dress he wore,"
"That dress no braver bosom clad."
"And had our gallant Bryan Byrne"
"Been welcom'd to their loyal band,"90
"Home might I still in joy return"
"The proudest father in the land."
"For ah! when Bryan Byrne was slain,"
"With him my brave, my beauteous son"
"His precious life-blood shed in vain,"95
"The savage work of death was done."
He ceas'd, for now, by memory stung,
His heart's deep wounds all freshly bled,
While with a father's anguish wrung,
He bow'd to earth his aged head.100
Yet soothing to his broken heart
He felt the stranger's sympathy,
And age is ready to impart
Its page of woe to pity's eye.
Yes it seem'd sweet once more to dwell105
On social joys, and peaceful days,
And still his darling's virtues tell
And still his Ellen's beauty praise.
"And say" at length exclaim'd the youth,
"Did no one rash rebellious deed,"110
"Ere cloud thy Bryan's loyal truth,"
"And justice doom thy boy to bleed?"
No, never rash rebellious deed
Was his, nor rash rebellious word,
That day of slaughter saw him bleed115
Where blushing justice dropt the sword.
In fury's hand it madly rag'd,
As urg'd by fierce revenge she flew,
With unarmed innocence she wag'd
Such war as justice never knew.120
"'Twas ours," the sorrowing father cried,
"'Twas ours to mourn the crimes of all"
"Each night some loyal brother died,"
"Each morn beheld some victim fall."
"Oh! 'twas a sad and fearful day,"125
"That saw my gallant boys laid low,"
"The voice of anguish and dismay"
"Proclaim'd full many a widow's woe."
"But doubly o'er our fated house"
"Th'accursed hand of murder fell," 130
"And, ere our Ellen wept her spouse,"
"She had a dreadful tale to tell"
"For early on that guilty morn,"
"The voice of horror reach'd our ears,"
"That from their thoughtless slumber torn,"135
"Before a helpless sister's tears,"
"Beneath their very mother's sight,"
"Three youthful brothers butcher'd lie,"
"Three loyal yeomen brave in fight,"
"Butcher'd by savage treachery."140
"They were my nephews; boys I lov'd,"
"My own brave boy alone more dear;"
"Their rashness oft my heart reprov'd"
"And mark'd their daring zeal with fear."
"They were my widow'd sister's joy,"145
"Her hope in age, and dark distress,"
"And Ellen lov'd each gallant boy,"
"Even with a sister's tenderness."
"It was from Ellen's lips I heard"
"The tidings sadly, surely true,"150
"To me ere yet the dawn appear'd,"
"All pale with fear & grief she flew."
"Rous'd by her call, with her I sought"
"The sad abode of misery,"
"But to the wretched mother brought"155
"No comfort but our sympathy."
"On the cold earth, proud sorrow's throne,"
"In silent majesty of woe,"
"She sat, & felt herself alone,"
"Tho' loud th'encreasing tumult grew."160
"In throngs th'assembled country came,
"And every hand was arm'd with death,
Revenge, revenge they all exclaim,
Spare no suspected traitor's breath.
No! let not one escape, who owns165
The faith of Rome, of treachery,
This loyal blood for vengeance groans,
And signal vengeance let there be.
What, shall we feel the coward blow,
And tamely wait a late defence,170
No, let us strike the secret foe,
Even thro' the breast of innocence!
"Poor Ellen trembled as they rav'd,"
"Her pallid cheek forgot its tears,"
"While, from the hand of fury sav'd"175
"Her infant darling scarce appears."
"I saw her earnest searching eye,"
"In that dark moment of alarm,"
"Ask, in impatient agony,"
"A brother's dear, protecting arm."180
"Woe! bitter woe! to me, and mine,"
"Too well his brave, his feeling heart"
"Already could her fears divine,"
"And more than bear a brother's part."
"When the first savage blast he knew"185
"Would bid each deadly bugle roar,"
"Back to our home of peace he flew,"
"Ah home of peace and love no more!"
"Oh would to God that I had died"
"Beneath my wretched sisters roof!"190
"Thus Heav'n in mercy had denied"
"To my worst fears their utmost proof."
"So had these eyes been spar'd a sight"
"Which wrings my soul with anguish still."
"Nor known how much of life, ere night,"195
"The blood-hounds of revenge could spill."
"Sinking at once with fear & age"
"Her father's steps my child upheld,"
"The mangled victims of their rage"
"Each moment shuddring we beheld."200
"Down yon steep side of Carickmure;"
"Our rugged path we homeward wound;"
"And saw, at least, that home secure,"
"'Mid many a smoky ruin round."
"Low in the glen our cottage lies,"205
"Behind yon dusky copse of oak,"
"On its white walls we fix'd our eyes."
"But not one word poor Ellen spoke."
"We came: the clamour scarce was o'er,"
"The fiends scarce left their work of death,"210
"But never spoke our Bryan more,"
"Nor Ellen caught his latest breath."
"Still to the corpse by horror join'd,"
"The shrinking infant closely clung,"
"And fast his little arms entwin'd"215
"As round the bleeding neck he hung."
"Oh! sight of horror, sight of woe!"
"The dead & dying both were there,"
"One dreadful moment serv'd to shew"
"For us was nothing but despair."220
"Oh God! even now methinks I see"
"My dying boy as there he stood,"
"And sought with fond anxiety,"
"To hide his gushing wounds of blood."
"Dear Ellen!" faintly he exclaim'd,225
"I could not save our Bryan's life"
"Thy brother's love will not be blam'd"
"Unequal, cruel was the strife."
"Ere life yet left his noble breast,"
"Gasping again he tried to speak," 230
"And twice my hand he feebly prest,"
"And feebly kiss'd poor Ellen's cheek."
"No word she spoke, no tear she shed,"
"Ere at my feet convuls'd she fell;"
"Still lay my children, cold and dead,"235
"And I yet live the tale to tell."
"She too awoke to wild despair,"
"With frenzied eye each corpse to see,"
"To rave, to smile with frantic air,"
"But never more to smile for me."240
"But hold! from yonder grassy slope,"
"Our orphan darling calls me hence;"
"Sweet child! last relick of our hope"
"Of love, & injur'd innocence."
Behind that birch-tree see him stand,"245
"Waving its light boughs gracefully:"
"While, threat'ning with his baby hand,"
He chides me that I talk with thee."
"Soldier farewel! to thee should power"
"Commit the fate of life's obscure,"250
"Remember still in fury's hour"
"The murder'd youths of Glenmalure"
"And chief, if civil broils return,"
"Tho' vengeance urge to waste, destroy,"
"Ah! pause: think then on Bryan Byrne!"255
"Poor Ellen and her orphan boy!"

Written for
ANGELA [69] 

Wilt thou begone? Oh! stay awhile;
My little hour of bliss
Hath still for love one parting smile,
One sweetly lingering kiss.
Alas! 'tis true the lovely night5
Her veil has half withdrawn,
And yon pale streaks of envious light
Proclaim unwelcome dawn.
Yet go not Love! no watchful eye,
Tho' morn indeed appears,10
Thy parting steps shall here espy
Save mine all drown'd in tears.
Ah! go not yet! but think how sad
How long my lonely day;
Bid this fond, foolish heart be glad,15
A little longer to stay.
'Tis but some moments stol'n from those
Which once were all my own,
One wither'd leaf from that sweet rose,
Which bloom'd for me alone.20
Yes, thou wert mine, wert only mine!
Thy hours, thy life, thy soul,
Tho' offer'd at an humble shrine,
Confess'd love's full control.
Yes I was blest! Ah me! this tear25
Betrays my broken heart;
The latent anguish will appear,
It marks my powerless art.
Oh! I would hide it all from thee,
My hopeless, vain regret;30
While dear affection loves for me
Some sweets to cherish yet.
I would not crush the buds of joy,
Love still delights to rear,
And screen them from the lowering sky35
That chills th'autumnal year.
Still thou art kind! still I am blest!
I do not, Love, complain,
But fondly clinging round thy breast,
My heart still loves its chain.40
I would not give one tender sigh
Thy bosom heaves for me,
Nor one soft glance of that blue eye,
Ador'd by worlds to be.
I would not purchase all love's reign45
With one dear smile of thine,
Why should I then of love complain
While those dear smiles are mine?

to my
1798. [70] 

Ah! why my soft-ton'd, plaintive harp,
Art thou to pleasure's voice so mute?
Are then her accents harsh or sharp?
Discordant sounds her silver lute?
In vain she calls the sportive muse,5
And bids her rouse thy slumb'ring fire,
Thy strings the sprightly notes refuse,
They languish there & soon expire.
Yet, in each sad & gloomy hour,
To sorrow's, softest, smother'd sigh,10
Regardful still, with soothing power,
Thine ever ready chords reply.
If Linda bid thee now rejoice, [71] 
Wilt thou not aid th'unusual call?
Wilt thou not aid her timid voice?15
Nor let her joys unnotic'd' fall?
Ah! why reluctant to obey
The stranger voice of gay delight?
Why do thy soft tones melt away,
Nor in kind sympathy night? [72] 20
Is it, that taught by grief too well,
Thou still must sigh tho' grief be past?
As the vex'd waves still heave & swell,
Tho' the wild winds are hush'd at last.
Or rather, does each trembling string,25
Now sad, with true, prophetic power,
O'er future sorrows murmuring,
Foretel the darkly, coming hour.
Thus, ere the furious storm appears,
Mournful the mountain spirit sighs,30
The groves lamenting tell their fears
Bleat the sad flock, the sea-bird cries.

SONG [73] 

Still as on Liffey's banks I stray,
And tread my weary, lonely way,
I muse on thee, my friend,
And wish the tedious moments past,
And wish, beloved! that at last5
This banishment might end.
Oh time! perverse, & cruel power,
Why wilt thou load the heavy hour,
Whose course is mark'd by pain?
Yet urge your too impatient flight,10
Dear white-wing'd children of delight!
Whose stay I court in vain.
Oft when most blest with thee, my Love,
Foreboding sighs would oft reprove
A bliss which fled so fleet;15
I mourn'd for every hour that past,
And still I valued most the last
And thought it still most sweet.
Ah! spendthrift time! why would'st thou waste
In scenes of pleasure all thine haste,20
And leave for absence nought?
Eager my long-lost love to meet,
Now for thy weary, ling'ring feet
The plumes are vainly sought.
But, dearest friend, for whom I long,25
Say, are my hopes of pleasure wrong,
Say, wilt thou joy to meet
Thy friend, whose every thought is thine?
And will thy soul rejoice like mine,
In love's reunion sweet?30
Oh! to my trembling heart, declare,
If thou hast felt such anxious care,
As I have fondly known?
Did'st thou with tenderest sympathy,
O'er each regretted moment sigh,35
Or have I wept alone?
Alas! regardless of our loves,
Perhaps thy faithless fancy roves,
While vainly sad I pine,
But no! I will not, can not think40
Thine heart could break the amorous link
That binds it close to mine.

Written in an HORACE
given on my birth-day by
H. Vaughan.
1804 [74] 

Could ere the genius, sense, or skill
Of thus by Phoebus lov'd avail,
To bid, in spite of fate's firm will,
The medicinal art prevail
Then had health's precious gifts been mine5
On this auspicious natal day,
Nor should I languid thus repine,
While life's sad hours consume away.
For, favorite of Apollo's care,
And richly gifted as thou art,10
The God his science bad thee share,
And nature gave the feeling heart.
Nor gave in vain -- since, tho' too oft
Sweet health resists thy potent sway,
And her gay smiles, and slumbers soft15
Refuse thy mandate to obey,
Yet well thou know'st with gentle swell,
To smooth the couch of pain & fear,
The darkest shades with hope dispel,
Th'oppress'd console, the languid cheer.20
Nor did the partial God deny
The soothing charm of eloquence,
And bid its powers assuasive try
To lull the pang-awaken'd sense.
And thee, with mildest manners blest,25
Enlighten'd skill, & polish'd mind,
Our confidence secure to rest,
Propitious fortune bid us find.
Whate'er thine art could do, is done,
With each attentive, flattering care,30
And pleas'd I proudly wish to own
A more than common interest there.
That grateful, on some future day,
If skill at length have power to save,
Delighted memory may say,35
It was a friend these comforts gave;
Who on my natal day bestow'd
The bard thy faultless taste approv'd,
Whose lyre with sweetest numbers flow'd,
By thine own Phoebus most belov'd.40
Dear valued gift! full many an hour
Of weary suffering thou shalt cheat,
Thy mildly philosophic power
Shall charm dark care from reason's seat.
The fell usurper thence shall flee,45
Contentment all my grief beguiling,
And Hope, thro' heaviest nights shall see
To-morrows sun still brightly smiling.

In return for a copy of Cowper's life sent with a sonnet.
1806. [75] 

Wake languid Muse! and tell the friendly Bard
How well the gift, dear signal of regard,
That proudest monument which friendship shews,
While Virtue charms us, & while Genius glows,
The polish'd verse, the sweetly flatt'ring strain,5
Can sooth to soft forgetfulness of pain
The throbbing nerve, whose rest-destroying power
Told the quick pulse thro' many a tedious hour,
For to his ear, benevolently kind,
I know the voice of gratitude shall find10
An ever ready welcome, tho' denied
Wit's brilliant ray, or fancy's graceful pride.
Ah! to the generous mind, the feeling heart,
What power of song can such delight impart
As the pure conscious triumph that succeeds15
The grateful echo of their own kind deeds,
Not the bright clusters of Parnassian fruit,
Wreathing rich tendrils round Apollo's lute, [76] 
Nor his soft pencil's most celestial dye,
Pour such enchantment on the glist'ning eye,20
As the pale lips which hope reviving speak,
Or the faint smile that brighten's sorrow's cheek,
When that faint hope, that renovated smile
Repay the kindness which could grief beguile,
And the full heart, with whisp'ring pride may say25
"My soothing cares have chas'd one pang away."

1801. [77] 

Lelia! with smiles, at length, behold
This net thy lover learnt to twine,
Those wand'ring, precious curls of gold
Thy graceful hand may now confine.
Around thy polish'd brow of snow,5
Safe from the rude wind's wanton play,
The bands with lustre soon shall glow
And thy soft neck's white charms display.
But ah! the violet hue we chose,
Ere yet my pleasing task is done,10
Flies faster than the summer rose,
And half its brilliant glow is gone.
My fingers press the silken chords
Injurious to their fragile pride,
And scarce the faded work rewards15
The skill so vainly misapplied.
Had'st thou preferr'd the constant shade
Of thine own eyes celestial blue,
Its charm had been awhile delay'd,
Preserv'd awhile its lovely hue.20
Or had the colour glow'd less bright,
And wore a graver, soberer charm,
The first, fresh gloss so sweet to sight
Had yet remain'd secure from harm.
And when, alas, far, far remov'd25
The hand that wove this braid for thee,
Th'unfaded gift might yet be lov'd,
And bid remembrance dwell on me.
But ah! too dazzling bright to last,
Its pride, its lustre all forgot,30
Soon from thine amorous tresses cast
Shall scorn too justly be its lot.
Ah! does thine heart the lesson feel,
And o'er our imag'd pleasures sigh?
Lament how swiftly time can steal35
Th'enchanting flush of love & joy?
The calmer bliss affection gives,
And tender friendship's gentler sway,
Possess a charm, which long survives,
When transport to neglect gives way.40

Written at West Aston.
1808. [78] 

Yes, I remember the dear, suffering Saint
Whose hand, with fond commemorative care,
Planted that myrtle on my natal day.
It was a day of joy to him she lov'd
Best upon earth; and still her gentle heart,5
That never felt one passion's eager throb,
Nor aught but quiet joys, and patient woes,
Was prompt to sympathise with all, and most
With that beloved brother: She had hop'd
Perchance, that, fondly on his arm reclin'd10
In placid happiness, her feeble step
Might here have wander'd thro' these friendly shades,
This hospitable seat of kindred worth,
And that the plant thus rear'd, in future years,
Might win his smile benignant; when her hand15
Should point where, in its bower of loveliness,
Bright spreading to the sun its fragrant leaf,
His Mary's myrtle bloom'd. Ah me! 'tis sad
When sweet affection thus designs in vain,
And sees the fragile web it smiling spun20
For playful Love, crush'd by the sudden storm
And swept to dark oblivion, mid the wreck
Of greater hopes! Ev'n while she thought of bliss,
Already o'er that darling brother's head,
The death commission'd Angel noiseless wav'd25
His black & heavy wings: and tho' she mourn'd
That stroke, in pious sorrow, many a year,
Yet even then, the life-consuming shaft
In her chaste breast she uncomplaining bore.
Now, both at rest, in blessed peacefulness,30
With no impatient hope, regret, or doubt,
Await that full completion of the bliss
Which their more perfect spirits shall receive.
Fair blossom'd her young plant! effusing sweet
Its aromatic breath: for other eyes35
Blush'd the soft folded buds, & other hands
Pruned its luxuriant branches; friendship still
Preserv'd the fond memorial, nay even yet
Would fain preserve with careful tenderness
The blighted relic of what once it lov'd.40
Hard were the wintry hours! felt even here
Amid those green protecting walls; and late
The timid Spring, oft chill'd, and rudely check'd,
At last unveil'd her tenderest charms, and smil'd
With radiant blushes on her amorous train:45
But no reviving gale, no fruitful dew
Visits the brown, parch'd leaf, or from the stem,
The withering stem, elicits the young shoot
With hopes of life, & beauty; yet thy care,
Perhaps, dear Sidney, thine assiduous care50
May save it still. What can resist the care
Of fond assiduous love? Oh! it can raise
The shudd'ring soul that sunk beneath the black,
Suspended pall of Death! believe this lip,
Believe this grateful heart, which best can feel55
The life-restoring power of watchful Love.

OSSIAN [79] 

Dark is the night, tempestuous howls the blast,
And down the mountain roars the torrent fast;
Whence are those sounds of sweet, but saddest woe?
Whence doth that melody of sorrow flow?
On yon dark hill of storm, all lonely laid,5
Behold Miruna the white-bosom'd maid!
Fair as the showery bow which mildly shone
In the soft splendour of the setting Sun,
Or as the Moon, when calm she rears her head,
A silver radiance o'er the lake to shed,10
Lovely as morn, and gentle as the breeze
That fans the humid Spring from perfum'd trees;
See how her shadowy tresses unconfin'd
In wild luxuriance float upon the wind,
Now veil her neck, now sport upon her face,15
And half conceal the beauties they should grace,
But terror heaves beneath that breast of snow,
And down her vermeil cheek soft sorrows flow,
For hither, by her Morven urg'd to come,
Alone & timid she had left her home,20
For him she waits in terror & dismay,
Confus'd & wondering at his long delay,
For ere the Western hills the sun conceal'd
Or yon tall cliffs the rising moon reveal'd,
She vow'd to meet him, and escape the ire25
Of her stern brother, & relentless sire;
But sad the evening frown'd involved in clouds,
And night descending all in horror shrouds.
She calls in trembling accents on her love
Who lur'd her thus a fugitive to rove,30
The trembling accents all her fears confess,
And sadder sighs her agony express.
"Rise lovely Cynthia! mistress of the night!
Let not these envious clouds obscure thy light,
Oh! with thy friendly lustre guide my feet,35
Where Morven roams his wandering love to meet.
Let thy soft beams his graceful form illume,
And chase the horrors of this night of gloom.
Forlorn, unheard, beneath the beating rain,
I call my lingering love alas! in vain.40
Drear howls the wind, the mountain torrents roar,
But Morven's promis'd voice I hear no more,
Hush, hush ye winds! ye roaring torrents cease,
And lull awhile your stormy rage to peace.
Let but my feeble voice be heard around,45
My Lover's heart shall hail from far the sound!
And lo! in pity at my woe from high,
The gracious moon looks forth & calms the sky,
The whiten'd rocks reflect her silver light,
The mountain streams, & flooded vales look bright:50
From Ardvon's windy steep I gaze around,
And breathless listen to each mingled sound,
But Ah! no form of love dispels my fear,
No panting dogs proclaim my Morven near!
I see the destin'd spot, the mossy seat,55
The stream that swell'd rolls foaming at my feet,
The pointed rock, the storm-bent oak is here,
Chief of the hill! my promis'd lord appear!
But who are those, who in the distant vale
Lie on the heath? my frighted spirits fail;60
Bear me my trembling feet! yet, yet sustain
This sinking body to yon dreadful plain!
Is this my brother! this my Morven! say
Dear images of terror & dismay?
Ah speak my friend! revive my fleeting breath,65
Call back my soul from horror & from death!
Oh no! they speak no more! both, both are dead!
Lo! their blood-stain'd swords, deep gash'd & red;
Oh horror, horror! terrible your rage,
Against each other why did you engage?70
Dear cruel youths! ah whither can I fly?
The wretched cause of all these horrors I.
Sweet were your lives; untimely must they end?
Silent & cold, my brother, & my friend!
Dear were you both to this now widow'd heart,75
Ah why should ancient feuds such spirits part?
Long had our race been foes ere thou, brave youth,
Had plighted with my secret soul thy truth.
Yet, yet upon yon misty brow appear,
Shades of the dead! Miruna feels no fear!80
In mercy speak, Oh tell my soul distrest
Where do your reconciled spirits rest?
On what dark coast can I my brother find.
Where can I now be to my Morven join'd?
Alas! I see no lightly hovering form,85
No voice like theirs low murmurs thro' the storm.
Rear, rear the tomb, ye virgins of the grove,
Lay me between my brother, & my love!
Here raise it high for these your country's pride,
And lay Miruna by her heroes side.90
Close it not yet! this heart still beats with life,
But cannot long support this painful strife.
I come my Morven! murder'd spouse I come!
Receive Miruna at thy new found home!"
She spoke, & sunk upon the breathless clay,95
Then in mute sorrow sigh'd her soul away,
Her tender soul resigned the faithful breath,
There rest the youths, & hapless maid in death.
On the sad spot they rear the silent tomb,
And still each gentle heart deplores their doom;100
High on yon rock beside the mossy stream
Her form oft rises 'mid the moon's pale beam,
There oft she sings in softly plaintive sounds,
There mourns her Morven's and her brother's wounds.
The shepherd hears her from the pasture plains,105
And fearless listens to the heav'nly strains,
Soft as the sounds which swell the evening gale,
When Autumn whispers in the rustling vale;
The wearied huntsman views her from afar,
Deck'd with mild lustre like the evening star,110
But when the blasts arise, or morn draws near,
Or trembling mortal owns a coward fear,
As into air dissolves the melting lay,
And the light vision vanishes away --

Imitated from the DAPHNIS of GESSNER [80] 

In vain, stern Winter, would thy gloomy reign
Banish each beauty from our rural plain,
Spite of thy ravages still Nature charms,
And here sheds beauty which thy rage disarms;
Delighted I behold the brilliant scene,5
Where thro' the snow peeps forth the tender green,
And tho' the enfeebled sun hath lost his power,
And scarce sheds heat in his meridian hour,
Yet bright he shines in the blue vault serene,
While not a cloud thro' Heav'ns wide arch is seen;10
How clear he gilds the summit of yon hills!
How bright he sparkles in yon crystal rills!
Whose rapid course defies the icy chains
With which the languid waters frost detains;
On the brown, leafless hedge a dazzling line15
Of trembling icicles pellucid shine,
The brittle diamonds glitter on the thorn,
The painted dew-drops of the early morn,
And dancing sparkle in the northern gales,
Which blast our hills, & chill our shelter'd vales;20
The meads indeed afford no pasture now,
The sheep no longer graze the mountain's brow,
Securely feeding in their huts they brave
The fields of famine, & the stagnant wave.
No footsteps now are seen of passing flocks,25
No lowing herds; save that the docile ox
Slowly & sad the woodman's burden bears
The fuel which his cold, long evening cheers.
What tho' the frosts have robb'd our fields of flowers,
And stripp'd of verdure all our rosy bowers,30
Tho' now no longer from the smiling bough
I cull fresh garlands for Serena's brow,
Where forc'd to view the violets charms disclose,
And fairest lillies shame the blushing rose,
Yet wreaths of laurel I may still combine,35
And round her head the faithful myrtle twine;
Tho' the rude breath of bitter winds assail,
And hush to peace the songsters of our vale;
Tho' now no more the sprightly lark we hear
And Philomel no longer charms our ear,40
Yet the tame sparrow pecks from door to door,
And the sweet Redbreast shares our frugal store:
Lo! to my love the little thief I'll bring
For her his sweetest, tenderest notes he'll sing
Fed on her hand his songs shall thank her care45
Too blest her fondness and her smiles to share!
Tho' hills & cottages are crown'd with snow,
Which spreads & covers all the pains below,
Yet still some shrubs of purest, vivid green,
Vary the dazzling whiteness of the scene:50
And there my fair one's home I can descry,
And still on it repose my wandering eye;
'Mid the brown woods its smoky columns rise,
'Till the blue vapour join the clearer skies;
As borne aloft it mounts upon the breeze55
And bathes the leafless bosom of the trees;
There seated by the blazing turf, even now,
Perhaps, with fixed eyes, & pensive brow,
She from her casement views the wintry plain,
And thinks on absence, & her lover's pain,60
With soften'd heart his constant flame approves,
And sweetly ponders on our early loves;
Perhaps, like me, for Spring's return she longs,
Which calls forth verdure, flowers, & cheerful songs:
Oh! when by love, & mirth, & music led,65
In the gay dance shall we together tread,
Where mingled with the lightly, careless band,
In sweet transport I can press her hand,
When shall our voice united charm each hill,
And with sweet echoes every valley fill?70
Belov'd, Serena! fairest of that train,
Who welcome May with dances on the plain,
Thy beauty might my ravish'd senses bind,
But 'twas the purer graces of thy mind,
That bound in firmest chains my willing soul75
For ever subject to thy soft control;
Can I forget, when with a tender tear,
She heard the tale of the young Shepherd's fear?
Then with soft smiles, & sympathising voice,
She made the young Alexis heart rejoice.80
Two lambs from all her flock she bid him choose,
Nor the free gift with bashful shame refuse,
To dry his tears, his father's loss repair,
And chase the trembling boy's distress & care.
The lamb he lost she bid him cease to mourn,85
And fearless to his sterner home return.
Oh Winter! what avails thine harsh control?
Thy frosts can never chain my ardent soul,
My songs shall still resound Serena's praise,
For her in warmest notes my voice I'll raise,90
My flute shall breathe, & my obedient lyre,
Shall kindling glow with all its master's fire,
And Oh Serena! may my voice appear
As sweetly grateful to thy partial ear
As the remembrance of the poor & griev'd,95
Whose woes by thee were soften'd & reliev'd!

From the Italian. imitated 1799. [81] 

When cruel chance, or destiny severe,
Brings to my view that form, Ah! still ador'd!
No more the same as absent I deplor'd,
But chang'd, Oh, chang'd beyond my saddest fear;
When, gaily careless, or with cold neglect,5
She meets the glances of my aching eyes,
How heaves my heart with struggling, smother'd sighs,
My tongue refuses what my thoughts direct,
My burning cheek in vain averted glows,
While every object swims before my sight,10
Then how I long for solitude, and night,
There fondly hoping to regain repose,
Ah! anguish then more keenly wakes my woes,
While weary of the hours I loath the coming light.

to W. Parnell written at Avondale 1808. [82] 

We wish'd for thee, dear friend! for Summer eve
Upon thy loveliest landscape, never cast
Looks of more lingering sweetness than the last.
The slanting sun, reluctant to bereave
Thy woods of beauty, fondly seem'd to leave 5
Smiles of the softest light, which slowly past
In bright succession o'er each charm, thou hast
Thyself so oft admir'd; and we might grieve
Thine eye of taste should ever wander hence
O'er scenes less lovely than thine own; but here10
Thou wilt return, & feel thy home more dear
More dear the Muse's gentler influence,
When on the busy world, with wisdom's smile,
And heart uninjur'd thou hast gaz'd awhile.

In reply to M.rs Wilmot. 1807. [83] 

Lady! forgive, if late the languid lyre,
At length responsive to thy sweetest lay,
Breathe the low, trembling strain with weak essay
To utter all which grateful thoughts inspire;
Forgive, if vacant of poetic fire,5
I seem with frigid heart, and dull delay,
The flattering summons careless to obey;
Woo'd, kindly woo'd, so highly to aspire,
And echo the soft name of friend. For me,
Alas! for me, in anguish & in fear,10
The darkling days have since roll'd heavily;
But let my Psyche in thy partial ear,
Whisper the sad excuse, & smiling see
In hers the lovely sister form most fair, most dear.


[1] EDITOR'S NOTE: H.T. is Henry Tighe, Tighe’s husband. BACK

[2] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Cleuen An Elegy" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is not dated in Verses. I have not been able to locate a specific source for the tale Tighe tells in her elegy for Cleuen, alternately spelled Cluen or Clune or Cloone (also Clowen), a chieftain evidently buried in one of the distinctive rock mounds alongside the river Nore at Clonamery (where the ruins of Clune Castle and the Clune Church reside). BACK

[3] EDITOR'S NOTE: The Nore river flows past Kilkenny and Inistiogue (the location of Woodstock, William Tighe's estate). BACK

[4] EDITOR'S NOTE: Hymen is the Greek god of marriage. BACK

[5] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Written in an Almanack 1805" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). BACK

[6] EDITOR'S NOTE: "The World" is printed in Mary where it is dated 1803. BACK

[7] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Imitation from Jeremiah Chap XXXI. Ver 15. Nov:r 1800" is printed in Psyche, with Other Poems (undated). Tighe's verse covers Jeremiah 31.15-17, which promises the restoration of Rachel's children, a prophecy that would have resonated powerfully in November 1800 for Ireland: “Thus saith the Lord; A voice was heard in Ramah, lamentation, and bitter weeping; Rahel weeping for her children refused to be comforted for her children, because they were not. Thus saith the Lord; Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears: for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord; and they shall come again from the land of the enemy. And there is hope in thine end, saith the Lord, that thy children shall come again to their own border” (KJV). BACK

[8] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Psalm CXXX. Imitated. Jan.y 1805"is printed in Mary with lines 13-16 omitted, lines that are not expressed in Psalm 130: “1. Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord. 2. Lord, hear my voice: let thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications. 3. If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand? 4. But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared. 5. I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in his word do I hope. 6. My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning: I say, more than they that watch for the morning. 7. Let Israel hope in the Lord: for with the Lord there is mercy, and with him is plenteous redemption. 8. And he shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities”(KJV). BACK

[9] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Verses Written when a detachment of Yeomen were sent against the rebel army" poem does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals); the language inscribed on the shield in the illustration dates the poem and/or the event it describes to "Dublin July 13, 1798" and offers the Latin motto "I Secondo Omine": may all good go with you (from Horace's Odes 3.11.50-51). During the summer of 1798 Henry Tighe fought with the loyalist yeomen cavalry against the rebels in the Wicklow mountains. Tighe refers to herself via her coterie name "Linda" once again. BACK

[10] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Sensibility" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is not dated in Verses. BACK

[11] EDITOR'S NOTE: "See while the Juggler Pleasure smiles" is printed in Mary as "Pleasure, 1803." This is the only page in the manuscript that offers two illustrations. BACK

[12] EDITOR'S NOTE: "If Slander sting thy swelling heart" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is not dated in Verses; although it follows the meter and rhyme scheme of "See while the Juggler Pleasure smiles," it appears to be a separate poem. The E.I. Fox transcription of this poem in the Belfast Public Library titles it "La Guêpe" ("The Wasp") and prints it on a separate page before (rather than after) "See while the Juggler Pleasure smiles," there titled Stanza's." BACK

[13] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Written On the acquittal of Hardy &c -- Dec:r 1794" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals); the sonnet celebrates Thomas Erskine's successful defense of Thomas Hardy, John Thelwall, and John Horne Tooke against the charge of high treason for attempting to overthrow the monarchical system. Coleridge's sonnet "To Erskine" was published in the December 1794 Morning Post:

When British Freedom for a happier land
Spread her broad wings, that flutter'd with affright,
ERSKINE! thy voice she heard, and paus'd her flight
Sublime of hope! For dreadless thou didst stand
(Thy censer glowing with the hallow'd flame)5
An hireless Priest before th' insulted shrine,
And at her altar pourd'st the stream divine
Of unmatch'd eloquence. There thy name
Her sons shall venerate, and cheer thy breast
With blessings heaven-ward breath'd. And when the doom10
Of Nature bids thee die, beyond the tomb
Thy light shall shine: as sunk beneath the West
Tho' the great Summer Sun eludes our gaze,
Still burns wide Heaven with his distended blaze.

[14] EDITOR'S NOTE: "The Dove Anacreon Ode 15" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. Most verse translations of Anacreon's ode on the dove identify it as Ode IX (per Joshua Barnes's 1705 edition) rather than Ode XV (the Vatican MS order that Thomas Moore follows in his 1801 Odes of Anacreon); it seems likely that Tighe's poem is a response to other verse translations (there is no record of Tighe studying Greek as she did Latin, French, Italian and German). Here she refigures Anacreon's beloved Bathylus as the lover of the Greek lyric poet Sappho. BACK

[15] EDITOR'S NOTE: This line ends with a comma and a question mark in the manuscript. BACK

[16] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Madagascar eclogue Imitated from the Chev. du Parney" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses; it presents a verse translation of Évariste de Parny's "Chanson VI" in his Chansons Madécasses (1787). Tighe changes Parny's "Ampanani" to "Ampoina" and skips the first two lines below (“Young prisoner, what is thy name?” My name is Vaïna.”), to begin with Ampanani’s compliment “Vaïna, you are as beautiful as the first ray of daylight”:

Jeune prisonnière, quel est ton nom?
Je m'appelle Vaïna.
Vaïna, tu es belle comme le premier rayon du jour. Mais pourquoi tes longues paupières laissent-elles échapper des larmes?
O roi! J'avais un amant.
Où est-il?10
Peut-être a-t-il péri dans les combats, peut-être a-t-il dû son salut à la fuite.
Laisse-le fuir ou mourir, je serai ton amant.
O roi! Prends pitié des pleurs qui mouillent tes pieds!
Que veux-tu?
Cet infortuné a baisé mes yeux, il a baisé ma bouche, il a dormi sur mon sein; il est dans mon coeur, rien ne peut l'en arrachera . . . .20
Prends ce voile et couvre tes charmes. Achève.
Permets que j'aille le chercher parmi les morts, ou parmi les fugitifs.
Va, belle Vaïna. Périsse le barbare qui se plait à ravir des baisers mêlés à des larmes!

[17] EDITOR'S NOTE: "The Kiss Imitated from Voiture" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary and is undated in Verses; Henry and Lucy Moore include a copy of it in their 1811 Album (the source text for Collected Poems and Journals). It presents a verse translation of Vincent Voiture's 52-line lyric "Stances" (1650), which does not contain Tighe’s epigraph “Le soleil ne luit pas” (“The sun does not shine”):

Ce soir que vous ayant seulette rencontrée,
Pour guerir mon esprit et le remettre en paix:
J'eus de vous, sans effort, belle et divine Astrée,
La premiere faveur que j'en receus jamais.
Que d'attraits, que d'appas vous rendoient adorable! 5
Que de traits, que de feux me vinrent enflamer!
Je ne verray jamais rien qui soit tant aimable,
Ni vous rien desormais qui puisse tant aimer.
Les charmes que l'Amour en vos beautez recelle,
Estoient plus que jamais puissans et dangereux; 10
O Dieux! qu'en ce moment mes yeux vous virent belle,
Et que vos yeux aussi me virent amoureux!
La rose ne luit point d'une grace pareille,
Lors que pleine d'amour elle rit au Soleil,
Et l'Orient n'a pas, quand l'Aube se reveille, 15
La face si brillante, et le teint si vermeil.
Cet objet qui pouvoit esmouvoir une souche,
Jettant par tant d'appas le feu dans mon esprit,
Me fit prendre un baiser sur vostre belle bouche,
Mais las! ce fut plustost le baiser qui me prit.20
Car il brusle en mes os, et va de veine en veine,
Portant le feu vengeur qui me va consumant,
Jamais rien ne m'a fait endurer tant de peine,
Ni causé dans mon coeur tant de contentement.
Mon ame sur ma lévre estoit lors toute entiere, 25
Pour savourer le miel qui sur la vostre estoit;
Mais en me retirant, elle resta derriere,
Tant de ce doux plaisir l'amorce l'arrestoit.
S'esgarant de ma bouche, elle entra dans la vostre,
Yvre de ce Nectar qui charmoit ma raison, 30
Et sans doute, elle prit une porte pour l'autre,
Et ne luy souvint plus quelle estoit sa maison.
Mes pleurs n'ont pû depuis fléchir cette infidelle,
A quitter un séjour qu'elle trouva si doux:
Et je suis en langueur sans repos, et sans elle,35
Et sans moy-mesme aussi lors que je suis sans vous.
Elle ne peut laisser ce lieu tant desirable,
Ce beau Temple où l'Amour est de tous adoré,
Pour entrer derechef en l'Enfer miserablé,
Où le Ciel a voulu qu'elle ait tant enduré.40
Mais vous, de ses desirs unique et belle Reine,
Où cette ame se plaist comme en son Paradis,
Faites qu'elle retourne, et que je la reprenne
Sur ces mesmes oeillets, où lors je la perdis.
Je confesse ma faute, au lieu de la défendre, 45
Et triste et repentant d'avoir trop entrepris,
Le baiser que je pris, je suis prest de le rendre,
Et me rendez aussi ce que vous m'avez pris.
Mais non, puis-que ce Dieu dont l'amorce m'enflame,
Veut bien que vous l'ayez, ne me la rendez point; 50
Mais souffrez que mon corps se rejoigne à mon ame,
Et ne separez pas ce que Nature a joint. (lines 1-52)
Tighe's poem prompted Thomas Moore's eight-line response "To Mrs. ----, On Her Beautiful Translation of Voiture's Kiss," published in The Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Little, Esq (1801):
How heav'nly was the poet's doom,
To breathe his spirit through a kiss;
And lose within so sweet a tomb
The trembling messenger of bliss!
And, ah! his soul return'd to feel5
That it again could ravished be;
For in the kiss that thou didst steal,
His life and soul have fled to thee!

[18] EDITOR'S NOTE: Tighe quotes Romeo's line in 5.1.3 of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. BACK

[19] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Imitated from a Sonnet Written by Mad. de la Valliere" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. Tighe's note to the title provides a copy of Vallière's sonnet (“Everything destroys itself, everything passes; and the most tender heart / Cannot content itself with the same object”) and its historical context; Louise de la Vallière was the mistress of Louis XIV (1661-1667) until she was displaced by Madame de Montespan and eventually received permission to leave the court and take holy vows: "Madme de la Valliere se plaignit tendrement au Roi de son changement, il lui repondit avec froideur qu'il etoit trop sincere pour lui cacher sa passion pour Madme de Montespan. Madme de la Valliere envoyà au Roi ce sonnet.

Tout se detruit, tout passe; & le coeur le plus tendre
Ne peut d'un même objet se contenter toujours;
Le passè n'a point vu d'eternelles amours,
Et le siecles futurs n'en doivent point attendre:
La constance a des loix qu'on ne veut point entendre,5
Des desseins d'un grand Roi rien n'arrete le cours:
Ce qui plait aujourd' hui deplait en peu de jours.
Son inegalite ne sauroit se contraindre.
Tous ses defauts grand Roi font tort a vos vertues.
Vous m'aimiez autrefois, & vous ne m'aimez plus,10
Ah! que mes sentimens sont differens des votres;
Amour! a qui je dois et mon mal, et mon bien,
Que ne lui donnez vous un coeur comme le mien?
Ou que ne m'avez vous fait le mien comme les autres?
Ce sonnet fut louè de Louis, mais il se contente d'assurer Mad: de la Valliere qu'il aurait toujours de l'estime pour elle -- St Simon." (Tighe's note, from Louis de Rouvroy Saint-Simon's Mémoires [1789], 3:364-65). BACK

[20] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Verses Imitated from Du Moustier" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a loose verse translation of Charles Albert Demoustier's 28-line poem for Sappho (Lettre XLIII) in his Lettres à Émilie, sur la mythologie, 6 vols (1786-98), where Sappho declares “I will drink the icy waves / Which should erase forever / From my heart and my thoughts / The memory of my love”:

Je vais boire l'onde glacée
Qui doit effacer pour toujours
De mon coeur et de ma pensée
Le souvenir de mes amours.
Enfin, je braverai les armes5
Du cruel enfant de Vénus.
Je ne verserai plus de larmes.
Mais, hélas! je n'aimerai plus.
Je n'aimerai plus!.... Quoi! sa vue
Ne me fera plus tressaillir!10
Je l'entendrai sans être emué
Et sans frissonner de plaisir!
Quoi! mon coeur ne pourra plus même
Se figurer qu'il me sourit,
Qu'il est la, qu'il me dit: Je t'aime,15
Que je pleure, qu'il s'attendrit!
Je ne pourrai plus, sur la rive,
Les jours entiers l'attendre en vain;
Le soir m'en retourner pensive,
Et me dire: Il viendra demain!20
Adieu donc, espoir, rêverie,
Illusions, dont la douceur
M'aidait à supporter la vie
Et le veuvage de mon coeur.
Et toi, malgré les injustices25
Qu'à ce coeur tu fis essuyer,
Perfide, de mes sacrifices,
Le plus dur, c'est de t'oublier.

[21] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Verses Imitated from the Chev. du Parney Il est tems mon Eleonore!&c 1798" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). It presents a verse translation of Évariste de Parny's 29-line "Élégie XIII" from Élégies (1784), whose opening lines declare “It is time, my Éléonore, / To put an end to our errors”:

Il est temps, mon Éléonore,
De mettre un terme à nos erreurs;
Il est temps d'arrêter les pleurs
Que l'amour nous dérobe encore.
Il disparaît l'âge si doux,5
L'âge brillant de la folie!
Lorsque tout change autour de nous,
Changeons, ô mon unique amie!
D'un bonheur qui fuit sans retour
Cessons de rappeler l'image;10
Et des pertes du tendre Amour
Que l'Amitié nous dédommage.
Je quitte enfin ces tristes lieux
Où me ramena l'Espérance,
Et l'Océan entre nous deux15
Va mettre un intervalle immense!
Il faut même qu'à mes adieux
Succède une éternelle absence!
Le devoir m'en fait une loi.
Sur mon destin sois plus tranquille;20
Mon nom passera jusqu'à toi:
Quel que soit mon nouvel asile,
Le tien parviendra jusqu'à moi.
Trop heureux si tu vis heureuse;
A cette absence douloureuse25
Mon coeur pourra s'accoutumer.
Mais ton image va me suivre;
Et si je cessé de t'aimer,
Crois que j'aurai cesse de vivre.

[22] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Imitation from Horace Eheu fugaces &c Lib.II. Ode XIV" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Horace's Ode 2.14 addressed to Posthumus (“Alas, O Posthumus, Posthumus, the years glide swiftly by,” Charles E. Bennett translation), and invokes the Atlantic versus Adriatic ocean:

Eheu fugaces, Postume, Postume,
labuntur anni nec pietas moram
rugis et instanti senectae
adferet indomitaeque morti,
non, si trecenis quotquot eunt dies,5
amice, places inlacrimabilem
Plutona tauris, qui ter amplum
Geryonen Tityonque tristi
compescit unda, scilicet omnibus
quicumque terrae munere uescimur10
enauiganda, siue reges
siue inopes erimus coloni.
Frustra cruento Marte carebimus
fractisque rauci fluctibus Hadriae,
frustra per autumnos nocentem15
corporibus metuemus Austrum:
uisendus ater flumine languido
Cocytos errans et Danai genus
infame damnatusque longi
Sisyphus Aeolides laboris.20
Linquenda tellus et domus et placens
uxor, neque harum quas colis arborum
te praeter inuisas cupressos
ulla breuem dominum sequetur;
absumet heres Caecuba dignior25
seruata centum clauibus et mero
tinguet pauimentum superbo,
pontificum potiore cenis.

[23] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Imitation from Horace Lib: I. Ode. IV. Solvitur acris &c" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Horace's Ode 1.4 on spring addressed to Sestius (“Keen winter is breaking up at the welcome change to spring and the Zephyr,” Charles E. Bennett translation):

Solvitur acris hiems grata vice veris et Favoni,
trahuntque siccas machinae carinas,
ac neque iam stabulis gaudet pecus aut arator igni,
nec prata canis albicant pruinis.
Iam Cytherea choros ducit Venus imminente luna,5
iunctaeque Nymphis Gratiae decentes
alterno terram quatiunt pede, dum gravis Cyclopum
Vulcanus ardens visit officinas.
Nunc decet aut viridi nitidum caput impedire mytro
aut flore, terrae quem ferunt solutae;10
nunc et in umbrosis Fauno decet immolare lucis,
seu poscat agna sive malit haedo.
Pallida Mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas
regumque turris. O beate Sesti,
vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat incohare longam.15
Iam te premet nox fabulaeque Manes
et domus exilis Plutonia; quo simul mearis,
nec regna vini sortiere talis,
nec tenerum Lycidan mirabere, quo calet iuventus
nunc omnis et mox virgines tepebunt.20

[24] EDITOR'S NOTE: Favonius: one of the Roman wind gods (with dominion over flowers and plants). BACK

[25] EDITOR'S NOTE: Cynthia: alternate name for Artemis, the Greek goddess of the moon. BACK

[26] EDITOR'S NOTE: Cytherea: alternate name Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. BACK

[27] EDITOR'S NOTE: Faunus: a Roman god of the forest. BACK

[28] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Imitated from an Elegy attributed to Sulpicia Est qui te, Cerinthe, &c. Vide Tibul. Lib.iv. May. 1803" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). It presents a verse translation of the Latin elegy "Qui mihi te, Cerinthe, dies dedit, hic mihi sanctus" (“This day that made thee live for me, Cerinthus, shall be for me one to be hallowed always,” J. P. Postgate translation) collected in the Corpus Tibullianum, (3.11), the works of Tibullus (books 1-2) and friends (books 3-4 in Tighe's time), which includes a set of poems about Sulpicia and her beloved Cerinthus, "Sulpicia's Garland" (the source of Tighe's poem), as well as six elegies by Sulpicia herself:

Qui mihi te, Cerinthe, dies dedit, hic mihi sanctus
atque inter festos semper habendus erit:
te nascente nouum Parcae cecinere puellis
seruitium et dederunt regna superba tibi.
Vror ego ante alias: iuuat hoc, Cerinthe, quod uror,5
si tibi de nobis mutuus ignis adest;
mutuus adsit amor, per te dulcissima furta
perque tuos oculos per Geniumque rogo.
Mane Geni, cape tura libens uotisque faueto,
si modo, cum de me cogitat, ille calet.10
Quod si forte alios iam nunc suspiret amores,
tunc precor infidos, sancte, relinque focos.
Nec tu sis iniusta, Venus: uel seruiat aeque
uinctus uterque tibi uel mea uincla leua;
sed potius ualida teneamur uterque catena,15
nulla queat posthac quam soluisse dies.
Optat idem iuuenis quod nos, sed tectius optat:
nam pudet haec illum dicere uerba palam.
At tu, Natalis, quoniam deus omnia sentis,
adnue: quid refert, clamne palamne roget?20

[29] EDITOR'S NOTE: Lesbia was the pseudonym Catullus used to refer to his lover. BACK

[30] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Fond Catullus! cease to grieve" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Catullus's 19-line Carmina poem 8 (“Poor Catullus, ‘tis time you should cease your folly,” Francis Cornish translation):

Miser Catulle, desinas ineptire,
et quod vides perisse perditum ducas.
fulsere quondam candidi tibi soles,
cum ventitabas quo puella ducebat
amata nobis quantum amabitur nulla.5
ibi illa multa tum iocosa fiebant,
quae tu volebas nec puella nolebat.
fulsere vere candidi tibi soles.
nunc iam illa non vult: tu quoque, impotens, noli,
nec quae fugit sectare, nec miser vive,10
sed obstinata mente perfer, obdura.
vale, puella! iam Catullus obdurat,
nec te requiret nec rogabit invitam:
at tu dolebis, cum rogaberis nulla.
scelesta, vae te! quae tibi manet vita!15
quis nunc te adibit? cui videberis bella?
quem nunc amabis? cuius esse diceris?
quem basiabis? cui labella mordebis?
at tu, Catulle, destinatus obdura.

[31] EDITOR'S NOTE: "If aught of conscious worth the soul can cheer" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Catullus's 26-line Carmina poem 76 (“If a man can take any pleasure in recalling the thought of kindnesses done,” Francis Cornish translation):

Si qua recordanti benefacta priora voluptas
est homini, cum se cogitat esse pium,
nec sanctam violasse fidem, nec foedere in ullo
divum ad fallendos numine abusum homines,
multa parata manent in longa aetate, Catulle,5
ex hoc ingrato gaudia amore tibi.
nam quaecumque homines bene cuiquam aut dicere possunt
aut facere, haec a te dictaque factaque sunt:
omnia quae ingratae perierunt credita menti.
quare cur tu te iam amplius excrucies?10
quin tu animo offirmas atque istinc teque reducis
et dis invitis desinis esse miser?
difficile est longum subito deponere amorem;
difficile est, verum hoc qua libet efficias.
una salus haec est, hoc est tibi pervincendum;15
hoc facias, sive id non pote sive pote.
o di, si vestrum est misereri, aut si quibus unquam
extremam iam ipsa in morte tulistis opem,
me miserum adspicite et, si vitam puriter egi,
eripite hanc pestem perniciemque mihi!20
hei mihi subrepens imos ut torpor in artus
expulit ex omni pectore laetitias.
non iam illud quaero, contra ut me diligat illa,
aut, quod non potis est, esse pudica velit:
ipse valere opto et taetrum hunc deponere morbum.25
o di, reddite mi hoc pro pietate mea.

[32] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Tenderest friend, so long deplored" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Catullus's 11-line Carmina poem 9 (“Veranius, preferred by me of all my friends, the whole three hundred thousand of them,” Francis Cornish translation):

Verani, omnibus e meis amicis
antistans mihi milibus trecentis,
venistine domum ad tuos penates
fratresque unanimos anumque matrem?
venisti! o mihi nuntii beati!5
visam te incolumem audiamque Hiberum
narrantem loca, facta, nationes,
ut mos est tuus, applicansque collum
iucundum os oculosque saviabor.
o, quantum est hominum beatiorum,10
quid me laetiùs est beatiusve?

[33] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Dearest! did I hear thee say" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Catullus's 6-line Carmina poem 109 (“You promise to me, my life, that this love of ours shall be happy and last forever between us,” Francis Cornish translation):

Iucundum, mea vita, mihi proponis amorem
hunc nostrum inter nos perpetuumque fore.
di magni, facite ut vere promittere possit
atque id sincere dicat et ex animo,
ut liceat nobis tota perducere vita5
aeternum hoc sanctae foedus amicitiae.

[34] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Let us Lesbia, ever loving" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Catullus's 13-line Carmina poem 5 (“Let us live, my Lesbia, and love,” Francis Cornish translation):

Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
rumoresque senum severiorum
omnes unius aestimemus assis.
soles occidere et redire possunt:
nobis, cum semel occidit brevis lux,5
nox est perpetua una dormienda.
da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum,
dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,10
conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
aut ne quis malus invidere possit,
cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.

[35] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Rather bid thine ardent lover" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Catullus's 12-line Carmina poem 7 (“You ask how many kissings of you, Lesbia, are enough for me and more than enough,” Francis Cornish translation):

Quaeris quot mihi basiationes
tuae, Lesbia, sint satis superque.
quam magnus numerus Libyssae harenae
laserpiciferis iacet Cyrenis,
oraclum Iovis inter aestuosi5
et Batti veteris sacrum sepulcrum,
aut quam sidera multa, cum tacet nox,
furtivos hominum vident amores,
tam te basia multa basiare
vesano satis et super Catullo est,10
quae nec pernumerare curiosi
possint nec mala fascinare lingua.

[36] EDITOR'S NOTE: Charles Este and Antonius Parsons co-edited the Carmina quadragesimalia ab aedis Christi alumnis composita et ab ejusdem aedis Baccalaureis determinantibus in schola naturalis philosophiae publice recitata for Christ Church, University of Oxford, in 1723. BACK

[37] EDITOR'S NOTE: "See the fair, vernal Eve begins to smile!" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of the 14-line Carmina quadragesimalia poem “Vespere sub verno” (“The spring evening”) under the heading "An Privatio fit Principium? Affirmatur":

Vespere sub verno, tandem actis imbribus, aether
Guttatim sparsis rorat apertus aquis.
Aureus abrupto curvamine desuper arcus
Fulget, et ancipiti lumine tingit agros.
Continuo fensus pertentat frigoris aura5
Vivida, et insinuans mulcet amoenus odor.
Pallentes sparsim accrescunt per pascua sungi,
Laetius et torti graminis herba viret.
Plurimus annosa decussus ab arbore limax
In putri lentum tramite sulcat iter.10
Splendidus accendit per dumos lampada vermis.
Roscida dum tremulâ femita luce micat.
Non haec praestiterat laetus spectacula vesper,
Nubila texissent nî prius atra diem.

[38] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Cupid's Quiver" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of the 14-line Carmina quadragesimalia poem “Diversos animos” (“The varying minds”) under the heading "An Effectus requirat Agentem sibi proportionatum? Affirmatur":

Diversos animos ut vincere possit amantuum,
Diversa Idalius dirigit arma Puer.
Instruat emissas aquilae si penna sagittas,
Magnanimi herois saucia corda dolent.
Sin alam telo pavonis cauda ministrat5
Versicolor, molli vulnere Cotta perit.
Credula multiloquo cùm virgo cedit amanti,
Pennatam praebet garrulus ales opem.
Accelerat jaculum Philomela; pluma per auras?
Languentem captat Lesbia voce procum.10
Cum ruit in venerem juvenum lascivior aetas,
Ictum communem passeris ala regit.
Hinc passim nullo discrimine sternit amantes,
Tela gerens cordi cuilibet apta, Puer.

[39] EDITOR'S NOTE: "The Fly" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of the 10-line Carmina quadragesimalia poem “Picta auro” (“Embroidered with gold”) under the heading "Ad Mors et Senectus omni Animato conveniat? Affirmatur":

Picta auro, et nitidis variata coloribus alas,
Musca, veni nostris hospes amica scyphis.
Hospes eris, madidae seu te moderator uvae,
Haustus seu recreet plenior, hospes eris.
Indulge geniali horae sacilique Lyaeo,5
Dum saevum Lachesis tarda moratur opus.
Nam tua, devolvi praeceps, brevis interit aetas,
Et nostra est parili praecipitata suga.
Non tamen est, sortem cur indignemur iniquam;
Virgilius periit, Virgiliique Culex.10

[40] EDITOR'S NOTE: "The Grasshopper" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of the 14-line Carmina quadragesimalia poem “Parvula progenies” (“Tiny offspring”) under the heading "An Vita consistat in Calore? Affirmatur":

Parvula progenies Veris Zephyrique, Cicada,
Quàm te Phoebus amat! quàm savet alma Ceres!
Maturae variâ frueris dulcedine messis,
Dum praebet tenerum cespitis herba torum.
Omne tuum est, quodcunque sinu de divite tellus5
Sponte, vel humano culta labore, parit.
Illic lacteolo surgunt tibi lilia collo,
Hic calices implet roscida gemma tuos.
Et quando exhaustos inter cadis ebria stores,
En! pro te somnos omne papaver habet. 10
Deliciis tandem variis satiata recedis;
Nec tibi, quae laedit caetera, tristis hyems.
Sortem ultrà humanam felix, quae frigoris expers
Et fenii, Phoebo defieiente, peris!

[41] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Stanzas from Petrarca" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It seems to present a very loose verse translation of Petrarch's Sonnet 143:

Quando io v'odo parlar sì dolcemente
com' Amor proprio a' suoi seguaci instilla,
l'acceso mio desir tutto sfavilla,
tal ch' e'nfiammar devria l'anime spente;
trovo la bella donna allor presente5
ovunque mi fu mai dolce o tranquilla,
ne l'abito ch'al suon non d'altra squilla
ma di sospir mi fa destar sovente.
Le chiome a l'aura sparse et lei conversa
indietro veggio, et cosi bella riede10
nel cor come colei che tien la chiave;
ma 'l soverchio piacer, che s'atraversa
a la mia lingua, qual dentro ella siede
di mostrarla in palese ardir non àve.
Mark Musa translates these lines as follows:
When I hear you speak words of so much sweetness,
as Love himself inspires in his flock,
glowing desire in me turns to sparks,
enough to set a dead soul all aflame;
and then I find the lovely lady present,5
whenever she was so sweet or kind to me,
appearing so that often I'm awakened
not by the sound of any bell but sighs.
Her hair free in the breeze I see, and she
turning to me: so lovely she comes back10
into my heart for which she has the key;
but too much joy, which is an obstacle
stopping my tongue, does not possess the courage
to clearly show what she is like inside.

[42] EDITOR'S NOTE: "The Flowers from Madme Deshouliers. Dec.r 1795" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). It presents a verse translation of Antoinette Deshoulières's 49-line poem "Les Fleurs, Idylle," first published in Nouveau Mercure galant in November 1677 (“Your brilliance doesn’t last, charming flowers, honor of our gardens”):

Que votre éclat est peu durable,
Charmantes fleurs, honneur de nos jardins!
Souvent un jour commence et finit vos destins,
Et le sort le plus favorable
Ne vous laisse briller que deux ou trois matins.5
Ah ! Consolez-vous-en, jonquilles, tubéreuses:
Vous vivez peu de jours, mais vous vivez heureuses!
Les médisants ni les jaloux
Ne gênent point l'innocente tendresse
Que le printemps fait naître entre Zéphire et vous.10
Jamais trop de délicatesse
Ne mêle d'amertume à vos plus doux plaisirs.
Que pour d'autres que vous il pousse des soupirs,
Que loin de vous il folâtre sans cesse;
Vous ne ressentez point la mortelle tristesse15
Qui dévore les tendres coeurs,
Lorsque, pleins d'une ardeur extrême,
On voit l'ingrat objet qu'on aime
Manquer d'empressement, ou s'engager ailleurs.
Pour plaire, vous n'avez seulement qu'à paraître.20
Plus heureuses que nous, ce n'est que le trépas
Qui vous fait perdre vos appas;
Plus heureuses que nous, vous mourez pour renaître.
Tristes réflexions, inutiles souhaits!
Quand une fois nous cessons d'être,25
Aimables fleurs, c'est pour jamais!
Un redoutable instant nous détruit sans réserve:
On ne voit au delà qu'un obscur avenir.
A peine de nos noms un léger souvenir
Parmi les hommes se conserve.30
Nous rentrons pour toujours dans le profond repos
D'où nous a tirés la nature,
Dans cette affreuse nuit qui confond les héros
Avec le lâche et le parjure,
Et dont les fiers destins, par de cruelles lois,35
Ne laissent sortir qu'une fois.
Mais, hélas ! Pour vouloir revivre,
La vie est-elle un bien si doux ?
Quand nous l'aimons tant, songeons-nous
De combien de chagrins sa perte nous délivre?40
Elle n'est qu'un amas de craintes, de douleurs,
De travaux, de soucis, de peines;
Pour qui connoît les miseres humaines,
Mourir n'est pas le plus grand des malheurs.
Cependant, agréables fleurs,45
Par des liens honteux attachés à la vie,
Elle fait seule tous nos soins;
Et nous ne vous portons envie
Que par où nous devons vous envier le moins.

[43] EDITOR'S NOTE: Zephyr: the Greek god of the west wind. BACK

[44] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Love Imitated from Florian" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is not dated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of the first two paragraphs of the second chapter of Jean-Pierre Claris de Florian's 1788 Estelle (“The heartaches of love are cruel, but the calm of an insensitive heart is greater”):

Ils sont cruels les chagrins d'amour; mais le calme d'un coeur insensible l'est davantage. Les plaisirs mêmes que donnent la grandeur, les richesses, la vanité, ne valent pas les peines des amants. L'homme au faite des honneurs, entouré de trésors, environné d'esclaves, tourne ses regards avec complaisance sur ses prèmieres années: il était pauvre alors, mais il aimait; ce seul souvenir est plus doux pour lui que toutes les jouissances de la fortune. Amour, toi seul remplis notre âme, toi seul es la source de tous les biens, tant que la vertu s'accorde avec toi. Ah! qu'elle soit toujours ton guide, et que tu sois son consolateur! Ne vous quittez jamais, enfants du ciel; marchez ensemble en vous tenant la main. Si vous rencontrez dans votre route les chagrins ou les malheurs, soutenez-vous mutuellement.

Ils passeront, ces malheurs, et la félicité dont vous jouirez en aura cent fois plus de charmes; le souvenir des peines passées rendra plus louchants vos plaisirs. C'est ainsi qu'après un orage on trouve plus vert le gazon, plus riante la campagne couverte de perles liquides, plus belles les fleurs des champs relevant leurs têtes penchées; et l'on écoute avec plus de délices l'alouette ou le rossignol, qui chantent en secouant leurs ailes.


[45] EDITOR'S NOTE: "First Love From 'Il primo Amore' Metastasio Canz: 15" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is not dated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Pietro Metastasio's 38-line Cantata 15, "Il Primo Amore" (sometimes identified as Cantata 16), whose first three lines declare “Ah it is too true! That amorous ardour / For another that warms the warms the breast the first time / Never ages, is never fully extinguished”:

Ah troppo è ver! Quell' amoroso ardore,
Che altrui scaldo la prima volta il seno,
Mai per età, mai non s' estingue appieno.
È un fuoco insidioso
Sotto il cenere ascoso. A suo talento5
Sembra talor che possa
Trattarlo ognun senza restarne offeso:
Ma se-un' aura lo scuote, eccolo acceso.
Sol che un istante io miri
La bella mia nemica,10
La dolce fiamma antica
Sento svegliarmi in sen.
Ritorno a' miei sospiri,
D'amor per lei mi moro;
Il mio destino adoro15
Negli occhi del mio ben.
Nè sol quando la miro,
Ardo per Nice: ove mi volga, io trovo
Esca all' incendio mio. Là mi ricordo
Quando m'innamorò; qui mi sovviene20
Come giurommi fede. Un luogo, oh Dio!
I suoi ricori, un mi riduce in mente
Le tenerezze sue: questo al pensiero
Tornar l' idea vivace
D' una guerra mi fa, quel d' una pace.25
Che più? Le Ninfe istesse,
Che a vagheggiar per ingannarmi io torno,
Fan ch' io pensi al mio ben. Di Silvia o Clori
Talor le grazie ammiro; il crin, la fronte
Lodo talor: ma quante volte il labbro30
Dice, questa è gentil, vezzosa è quella,
Nice, risponde il cor, Nice è più bella.
Bella fiamma del mio core,
Sol per te conobbi amore,
E te sola io voglio amar.35
Non mi lagno del mio fato;
Dolce sorte è l' esser nato
Sol per Nice a sospirar.

[46] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Imitated from Aulus Gellius" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of two verses cited by Aulus Gellius in 19:11 of his 20-volume commonplace book commonplace book Noctes Atticae or Attic Nights. The first is by Plato: "τὴν ψυχὴν Ἀγάθωνα φιλῶν ἐπὶ χείλεσιν εἶχον· / ἦλθε γὰρ ἡ τλήμων ὡς διαβησομένη" ("My soul, when I kissed Agathon, did pass My lips; as though, poor soul, would leap across," John C. Rolfe translation). The second is a paraphrase of Plato by an unidentified contemporary of Gellius's: "Dum semihiulco savio / meum puellum savior / dulcemque florem spiritus / duco ex aperto tramite, / anima aegra et saucia / cucurrit ad labeas mihi, / rictumque in oris pervium / et labra pueri mollia, / rimata itineri transitus, / ut transiliret, nititur. / Tum si morae quid plusculae / fuisset in coetu osculi, / Amoris igni percita / transisset et me linqueret, / et mira prorsum res foret, / ut fierem ad me mortuus, / ad puerulum intus viverem" ("When with my parted lips my love I kiss, / And quaff the breath's sweet balm from open mouth, / Smitten with love my soul mounts to my lips, / And through my love's soft mouth its way would take, / Passing the open gateway of the lips. / But if our kiss, delayed, had been prolonged, / By love's fire swayed my soul that way had ta'en, / And left me. Faith, a wondrous thing it were, / If I should die, but live within my love" (392-93). BACK

[47] EDITOR'S NOTE: "The Violet. from the French" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Jean Desmarets de Saint-Sorlin's quatrain "La Violette" which became part of the manuscript collection of madrigals "La Guirlande de Julie" (1641): "Modeste en ma couleur, modeste en mon séjour, / Franche d'ambition, je me cache sous l'herbe; / Mais, si sur votre front je puis me voir un jour, / La plus humble des fleurs sera la plus superbe" (“Modest in my color, modest in my dwelling”). BACK

[48] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Song" ("How hard with anguish unreveal'd") is printed in Mary under the title "To ----"; although it is not dated, the chronological sequencing of the volume suggests it was written in 1802-1803. BACK

[49] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Song Adapted to an Air by Mozart 1806" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). It is the first of the poems in Verses to be dated past the 1805 inscription date of the title page. It presents a verse translation of Christian Adolf Overbeck's 5-stanza 1781 song "Komm, lieber Mai, und mache die Bäume wieder grün" (“Come dear May, and make the trees green again), which Mozart set to music in 1791 (K. 596). Following Mozart, Tighe's lyric attends to stanzas 1, 2 and 5 from Overbeck:

Komm lieber Mai und mache
Die Bäume wieder grün
Und laßt uns an dem Bache
Die kleinen Veilchen blüh'n
Wie möchten wir so gerne5
Ein Blühmchen wieder seh'n
Ach lieber Mai wie gerne,
Einmal spazieren geh'n
Zwar Wintertage haben
Wohl auch der Freuden viel10
Man kann im Schnee frisch traben
Und treibt manch Abendspiel
Baut Häuselchen von Karten,
Spielt Blind Kuh und fand
Auch dies wohl Schlittenfahrten15
Auf's liebe freie Land
Doch wenn die Vöglein singen
Und wir dann froh und flinn
Auf grünem Rasen springen
Das ist ein ander' Ding20
D'rum komm und bring vor Allem
Uns viele Veilchen mit
Bring auch viel Nachtigallen
Und viele Kuckucks Lied
Am meisten aber dauert25
Mich Lottchens Herzeleid,
Das arme Mädchen lauert
Recht auf die Blumenzeit.
Umsonst hol ich ihr Spielchen
Zum Zeitvertreib herbei,30
Sie sitzt in ihrem Stuhlchen,
Wie's Hühnchen auf dem Ei.
Ach, wenn's doch erst gelinder
Und grüner draußen wär!
Komm, lieber Mai, wir Kinder,35
Wir bitten gar zu sehr!
O komm und bring vor allem
Uns viele Veilchen mit,
Bring auch viel Nachtigallen
Und schöne Kuckucks mit.40

[50] EDITOR'S NOTE: "To Caroline Imitated from Horace Albi, nostrorum sermenum, candide judex, &c" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is not dated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Horace's Epistle 1.4 "Albi, nostrorum sermonum candide iudex" (“Albius, impartial critic of my conversations,” H. Rushton Fairclough translation), which addresses Tibullus as the sincerest judge of his satires and urges him to seize the day:

Albi, nostrorum sermonum candide iudex,
quid nunc te dicam facere in regione Pedana?
Scribere quod Cassi Parmensis opuscula uincat,
an tacitum siluas inter reptare salubris,
curantem quicquid dignum sapiente bonoque est?5
Non tu corpus eras sine pectore; di tibi formam,
di tibi diuitias dederunt artemque fruendi.
Quid uoueat dulci nutricula maius alumno,
qui sapere et fari possit quae sentiat, et cui
gratia, fama, ualetudo contingat abunde,10
et mundus uictus non deficiente crumina?
Inter spem curamque, timores inter et iras
omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum;
grata superueniet quae non sperabitur hora.
Me pinguem et nitidum bene curata cute uises,15
cum ridere uoles, Epicuri de grege porcum.

[51] EDITOR'S NOTE: William Henry Bunbury (1750-1811) was well known for his caricatures. Caroline Hamilton was a gifted painter and occasional poet who often produced satirical work. BACK

[52] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Written for Emily" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary and is not dated in Verses but is printed without a title in Selena (the source text for Collected Poems and Journals), where it is attributed to the character Lady Emily Trevallyn. BACK

[53] EDITOR'S NOTE: "from an ancient inscription, Neapoli D. M. Gliconi. Vernae Dulciss" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of the following Latin inscription Thomas Warton published in his 1758 collection Inscriptionum Romanarum Metricarum Delectus: "Verna puer, puer O mi verna, quis ah, quis ab aura / Te in tenebras rapuit perditus? Ah morerer / Nì tecum assidue loquerer, nì saepe jocando / Fallerer, hinc dum te continue aspicio. / Semper ero tecum, et si me sopor occupet, umbram / Te umbra petam, ergo unquam ne metue abs te abeam." BACK

[54] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Sonnet from Fidentio" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is not dated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of "Sonetto XI" from Camillo Scrofa's I Cantici di Fidentio Glottogrysio Ludimagistro (1743): "O giorno col lapillo albo signando, / Giorno al mio gaudio et al mio ben fatale, / Aureo, felice, et più del mio natale / Da me perpetuamente celebrando; / Quando io credra migrar del secul, quando / Credea proximo aver l' ora letale, / Tu propitio da me scacci ogni male, / Et mi vai tutto dentro exhilarando: / Tu, santo dì, tu, luce amata et cara, / Dopo absentia si ria, pene si dure, / Rendi a questi occhi il suo Camillo adorno, / Drizzate tosto, Messer Blosio, un' ara, / Date mi plectro, portate igne et thure, / Ch'io vo' far sacrificio a si bel giorno." BACK

[55] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Dirge Written at Brompton January 12 1805" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). BACK

[56] EDITOR'S NOTE: The MS contains a penciled note that appears to be in Caroline Hamilton's hand: "on her little Italian greyhound." BACK

[57] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Address to the West Wind Written at Park Gate Sept:r 1805" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary; Henry and Lucy Moore include a copy of it from Verses in their 1811 Album (the source text for Collected Poems and Journals). The Tighes left England for Ireland in September 1805. BACK

[58] EDITOR'S NOTE: Eurus: Greek god of the east wind. BACK

[59] EDITOR'S NOTE: Zephyr: Greek god of the west wind. BACK

[60] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Adorea" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. BACK

[61] EDITOR'S NOTE: Tibullus, Elegy 3.8 ("Sulpicia est tibi culta tuis, / Mars magne, kalendis"), lines 7-8: "Whatsoever [Love] does, whithersoever she turns her steps, / Grace follows her unseen to order all aright" (J. P. Postgate translation). BACK

[62] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Pleasure" is printed in Psyche, with Other Poems without a date, without lines 19-20, 51-52, 61-62, and 67-68, and without Tighe's note to line 30 on the Senegal river. A 28-line extract from the poem appears in Mary, dated 1802. BACK

[63] EDITOR'S NOTE: Tighe's note: "Of poisonous Senegal's ill omened tide] The river Senegal annually overflows its banks, not as the Nile to administer health and plenty, but rendering the beautiful country which it thus visits so unwholesome as not only to be in itself unhabitable, but that it exhales such poisonous vapours as to be extremely noxious to the unguarded sailors who, allured by the luxurious appearance of the shore, venture up the mouth of the destructive river." BACK

[64] EDITOR'S NOTE: The first 12 stanzas of "To Tranquility" are printed in Mary where it is dated 1802 (the source text for Collected Poems and Journals). BACK

[65] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Song 1806" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). BACK

[66] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Bryan Byrne founded on truth" is printed in Psyche, with Other Poems (the source text for Collected Poems and Journals) under the title "Bryan Byrne, of Glenmalure" without the subtitle and missing the following four stanzas: lines 25-28, 37-40, 225-28, and 245-48. A note in Psyche, with Other Poems states that “The story of Bryan Byrne is founded upon facts which were related to the author in the autumn of 1798: though circumstances may not have happened in the exact manner which is recorded in the poem, yet it gives but too faithful a picture of the sentiments and conduct of those days. It is certain that at that period several unarmed persons, report says above twenty, were put to death by the troops near Wicklow, to retaliate the murder of many loyalists, and particularly of the three brothers mentioned in this ballad” (314). BACK

[67] EDITOR'S NOTE: MS reads "cherubs" BACK

[68] EDITOR'S NOTE: A note in Psyche, with Other Poems identifies Clough as "the place at which Colonel Walpole was killed, and his detachment defeated by the rebels" (314). BACK

[69] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Written for Angela" does not appear in Selena (or Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary or Collected Poems and Journals) but is clearly attributed to the character Angela Harley. BACK

[70] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Song to my Harp 1798" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). BACK

[71] EDITOR'S NOTE: Tighe's coterie name. BACK

[72] EDITOR'S NOTE: The MS has a very faint underline under "night" (an odd word choice). BACK

[73] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Song" ("Still as on Liffey's banks I stray") does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals); it is undated in Verses. BACK

[74] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Written in an Horace given on my birth-day by H. Vaughan. 1804" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary; the London Royal College of Physicians Library autograph copy (the source text for Collected Poems and Journals) dates the poem to London October 9, 1804 and contains an epigraph from Catullus's Carmina 12.12-13: "Quod me non movet oestimatione / Verum ut Muypoouvov" ("Which does not concern me for what it is worth, but because it is keepsake," Francis Cornish translation). Tighe saw Henry Vaughan (later Sir Henry Halford) while she was pursuing treatment in England. BACK

[75] EDITOR'S NOTE: "To W. Hayley. In return for a copy of Cowper's life sent with a sonnet. 1806" is printed in Mary. Hayley sent Tighe a copy of his Life and Posthumous Writings of William Cowper (1803) with the following sonnet, "To Mrs. H. Tighe with a copy of Cowper's Life":

Records of Genius! traced by friendship's hand!
Go, & to Psyche's sympathetic eyes
Fondly display, in nature's simple guise
A poet's life! whose merit may command
Perpetual plaudits from his native land, 5
And fame, from every polished chime, that lies
Beneath the favour of indulgent skies,
Wherever minds aspire & hearts expand!
To Psyche say, in truth's endearing tone
Behold thy favorite Bard! whose life & lays 10
(If ever man might arrogate such praise)
May match in purity and grace thy own!
How, as thy friend, would he have joyed to raise,
And seat thee high on his Parnassian throne!

[76] EDITOR'S NOTE: Mount Parnassus was the mountain in Greece considered sacred to Apollo, god of music and poetry. BACK

[77] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Song 1801" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). BACK

[78] EDITOR'S NOTE: "The Myrtle Written at West Aston. 1808"is printed as "Written at West-Aston. June 1808" in Psyche, with Other Poems and under its full title in Mary. A note in Psyche, with Other Poems states "The myrtle was planted by the author's aunt Mary, at West-Aston, the seat of Thomas Acton, esq. in the county of Wicklow. The 'beloved brother' was the author's father, the Reverend William Blachford, who died after a very short illness in the meridian of life, a few months after the birth of his daughter. The myrtle was destroyed by frost in the winter of 1807, notwithstanding the care of Mrs. Acton, who is addressed in this poem by her Christian name of Sydney" (313-14). BACK

[79] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Morven and Miruna from Ossian" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It provides a verse narration of the story of Colma and Salgar (here Miruna and Morven) sung by Minona in "The Songs of Selma" section of James Macpherson's Poems of Ossian (1760-1775):

Minona came forth in her beauty: with downcast look and tearful eye. Her hair flew slowly on the blast, that rushed unfrequent from the hill. The souls of the heroes were sad when she raised the tuneful voice; for often had they seen the grave of Salgar, and the dark dwelling of white-bosomed Colma. Of Colma left alone on the hill, with all her voice of music! Salgar promised to come: but the night descended round. Hear the voice of Colma, when she sat alone on the hill.

Colma. It is night, I am alone, forlorn on the hill of storms. The wind is heard on the mountain. The torrent shrieks down the rock. No hut receives me from the rain; forlorn on the hill of winds.

Rise, moon! from behind thy clouds; stars of the night appear! Lead me, some light, to the place where my love rests from the toil of the chase! his bow near him, unstrung; his dogs panting around him. But here I must sit alone, by the rock of the mossy stream. The stream and the wind roar; nor can I hear the voice of my love. Why delays my Salgar, why the son of the hill, his promise? Here is the rock, and the tree; and here the roaring stream. Thou didst promise with night to be here. Ah! whither is my Salgar gone? With thee I would fly, my father; with thee, my brother of pride. Our race have long been foes; but we are not foes, O Salgar!

Cease a little while, O wind! stream, be thou silent a while! let my voice be heard over the heath; let my wanderer hear me. Salgar! it is I who call. Here is the tree, and the rock. Salgar, my love! I am here. Why delayest thou thy coming? Lo! the moon appeareth. The flood is bright in the vale. The rocks are gray on the face of the hill. But I see him not on the brow; his dogs before him tell not that he is coming. Here I must sit alone.

But who are these that lie beyond me on the heath? Are they my love and my brother? Speak to me, O my friends! they answer not. My soul is tormented with fears. Ah! they are dead. Their swords are red from the fight. O my brother! my brother! why hast thou slain my Salgar? why, O Salgar! hast thou slain my brother? Dear were ye both to me! what shall I say in your praise? Thou wert fair on the hill among thousands; he was terrible in fight. Speak to me; hear my voice, sons of my love! But alas! they are silent; silent forever! Cold are their breasts of clay! Oh! from the rock of the hill: from the top of the windy mountain, speak ye ghosts of the dead! speak, I will not be afraid. Whither are ye gone to rest? In what cave of the hill shall I find you? No feeble voice is on the wind; no answer half-drowned in the storms of the hill.

I sit in my grief; I wait for morning in my tears! Rear the tomb, ye friends of the dead. Close it not till Colma come. My life flies away like a dream: why should I stay behind? Here shall I rest with my friends, by the stream of the sounding rock. When night comes on the hill; when the wind is on the heath; my ghost shall stand in the wind, and mourn the death of my friends. The hunter shall hear from his booth. He shall fear but love my voice. For sweet shall my voice be for my friends: for pleasant were they both to me.

Such was thy song, Minona, softly-blushing maid of Torman. Our tears descended for Colma, and our souls were sad.


[80] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Winter Imitated from the Daphnis of Gessner" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals) and is undated in Verses. It presents a verse translation of Salomon Gessner's idyl "Daphnis" in Idyllen (1756). In the excerpt Daphnis is sitting by the fire one winter morning, dreaming of his beloved Phillis, and recalling the time she gave a young shepherd two of her goats after two of his fell from a precipice:

An einem hellen Wintermorgen sass Daphnis in seiner Hütte; die lodernden Flammen angebrannter dürrer Reiser streuten angenehme Wärme in der Hütte umher, indess dass der herbe Winter sein Strohdach mit tiefem Schnee bedeckt hielt; er sah' vergnügt durch das enge Fenster über die wintrichte Gegend hin. Du herber Winter! so sprach er; doch bist du schön! Lieblich lächelt izt die Sonue durch die dünnbenebelte Luft über die schneebedeckten Hügel hin; flimmernder Schneestaub flattert umher, wie in Sommertagen über dem Teich kleine Mücken im Sonnenschein tanzen. Lieblich ist's, wie aus dem Weissen empor die schwarzen Stämme der Bäume zerstreut stehn, mit ihren krummgeschwungenen unbelaubten Aesten; oder eine braune Hütte mit dem beschneiten Dach; oder wenn die schwarzen Zäune von Dornstauden die weisse Ebene durchkreuzen. Schön ist's, wie die grüne Saat dort über das Feld bin die zarten Spitzen aus dem Schnee emporhebt, und das Weiss mit sanftem Grün vermischet. Schön glänzen die nahen Sträuche; mit Duft geschmückt sind ihre dünnen Aeste, und die dünnen umher flatternden Fäden. Zwar ist die Gegend öde, die Heerden ruhen eingeschlossen im wärmeuden. Stroh; nur selten sieht man den Fusstritt des willigen Stiers, der traurig das Brennholz vor die Hütte führt, das sein Hirt im nahen Hain gefällt hat. Die Vögel haben die Gebüsche verlassen, nur die einsame Meise singet ihr Lied; nur der kleine Zaunschlüpfer hüpfet umher, und der braune Sperling kömmt freundlich zu der Hütte, und picket die hingestreuten Körner. Dort, wo der Rauch aus den Bäumen in die Luft emporwallt, dort wohnet meine Phillis! Vielleicht sitzest du izt beym wärmenden Feuer, das schön Gesiecht auf der unterstützenden Hand, und denkest an mich, und wünschest den Frühling. Ach Phillis! wie schön bist du! Aber, nicht bloss deine Schönheit hat mich zur Liebe gereizt. O wie liebt ich dich, seit jenem Tag, da dem jungen Alexis zwey Ziegen von der Felsenwand stürzten! Er weinte, der junge Hirt. Ich bin arm, sprach er, und habe zwey Ziegen verloren; die eine war trachtig. Ach! ich darf nicht zu meinem armen Vater in die Hütte zurückkehren. So sprach er weinend; du sahest ihn weinen, Phillis! und wischtest die mitleidigen Thränen vom Auge, und nahmest aus deiner kleinen Heerde zwey der bessten Ziegen. Da, Alexis! sprachst du, nimm diese Ziegen; die eine ist trächtig. Und wie er vor Freude weinte, da weintest du auch vor Freude, weil du ihm geholfen hattest. O! sey immer unfreundlich, Winter! meine Flöte soll doch nicht bestaubt in der Hütte hangen; ich will dennoch von meiner Phillis ein frohes Lied singen. Zwar hast du alles entlaubt, zwar hast du die Blumen von den Wiesen genommen; aber du sollst es nicht hindern, dass ich einen Kranz flechte; Epheu und das schlanke Immergrün mit den blauen Blumen will ich durch einander flechten. Und diese Meise, die ich gestern fieng, soll in ihrer Hütte singen. Ja ich will dich ihr heute bringen und den Kranz; sing' ihr dann dein frohes Lied; sie wird freundlich lächelnd dich anreden, und in ihrer kleinen Hand die Speise dir reichen. O wie wird sie dich pflegen, weil du von mir kömmst. (24-27)

[81] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Sonnet from the Italian. imitated 1799" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). BACK

[82] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Sonnet to W. Parnell written at Avondale 1808" is printed in Psyche, with Other Poems under the title "To W. P. Esq. Avondale," and was written in June 1808 during Tighe's last visit to the seat of family friend William Parnell. BACK

[83] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Sonnet In reply to M.rs Wilmot. 1807" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary but was published by Barbarina Brand, Lady Dacre under the title "Psyche's Answer" (dated May 7, 1807) in her 1821 two-volume Dramas, Translations and Occasional Poems (the source text of Collected Poems and Journals). It offers a belated response to Dacre's complimentary sonnet "To Psyche, on Reading Her Poem":

Who hears the lark's wild rapturous carol shrill,
Nor feels with kindred joy his bosom glow?
Who, the lone owl's loud dismal shriek of woe,
Nor starts as with a sense of coming ill?
The mingled bleatings that at evening fill 5
The dewy air with tender sounds, that flow
From mother's love, all answering hearts avow,
Such sympathy does nature's voice instill!
What wonder, then, if the enchanting lay
In which the soul of love and virtue blend 10
Their force resistless, and thy heart pourtray,
While all the Nine their fascination lend,
That the rapt fancy the strong spell obey,
Greeting thee, unknown Psyche! as a friend?" (2:237)
Lady Dacre (née Ogle) was first married to Valentine Henry Wilmot and then Thomas Brand. BACK